Raison D'etre
by hellsdescent
Summary: Negotiations between Heaven and Hell have been cut for billions of years since the great Fall of Lucifer. When the mighty ruler succumbs to death, the Crown Prince, a human soul Lucifer collected from Earth, becomes king. AU. Eventual DemonDean/Castiel.
1. I

**A/N: This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Suffice to say, I'm a little nervous on the reception so please forgive any massive mistakes. **

**Chapter I here is mostly an introductory chapter to the world this story will be set in, so II will be posted too with more relevant plot.**

**Constructive reviews are appreciated. :D**

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><p>The Proud Prince, Lucifer, was once a warrior of Heaven until God banished him and he was exiled to Earth. Where he fell, a massive pit was formed below the Earth's surface. It was there where Hell was formed. For God had created Man and given him Free Will and choice. He demanded all of Heaven bow before man and bestow love unto him.<p>

Consumed with envy, Lucifer was determined to unseat his rivals well after his fall from Paradise. He wished to prove that Man did not deserve the love Father had entrusted to them. Lucifer created a systemic flow of the human souls of Earth into Hell. Those who had lost faith in God, those who had sinned against eachother and Heaven cascaded into the fires of Hell where eternal punishment was wrought.

The endless cycle of torture and pain formed the first demons, human-like in appearance with capabilities beyond or equal to an angelic warrior. These were the noblemen and noblewomen of Hell, who reported directly under Lucifer. Royalty in comparison to the mindless monsters that were created from those who had not the will to become such.

A treaty was enacted. As long as Heaven and Hell didn't interfere with the free will of man, then there would be no war. For Free Will instilled the dictation of where each soul would go upon death.

Mankind thrived and flourished. Many souls were granted paradise. Though for every five souls granted eternal happiness, one would fall to sin and burn in Hell. Fear and disbelief began to grow as the centuries passed.

However, many lost faith in their creator and the beliefs in the prophets that spread His name and word as the one supreme being. They came with theories of their own on existence and the after-life. Fear and imagination allowed darkness to curl in the shadows of Earth.

Monsters were manifested from this fear and faithlessness. God became a myth. Even those with faith believed that it was mankind's punishment for disbelief and lack of faith, that they were subjected to a Hell on Earth before facing judgment. Or perhaps it was another trial to face.

But some were always kept blissfully ignorant of the dark spaces on the planet, where shadows roamed.

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><p><em>It was said that one day a being of unassuming proportions from Earth would one day bring the end to Heaven and Hell.<em>

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><p>Lucifer heard these words from the lips of an unknown being who left him shortly after, though he did not heed such slander immediately...But in time... his pride called to him that he would never allow a human to destroy what billions of years had created. The warning further said that the being would be born under a mirror in the sky.<p>

The King took no chances.

He ventured to the "mirror in the sky" on that precise date the same year.

It was a clear lake that the humans had named Lake Tahoe. The orignal settlers had called it the mirror in the sky because at the peak of the mountain, one could see a perfect reflection of the sky upon the lake's surface.

Lucifer's legion surrounded the mountains. Black spirited demons with razor sharp teeth and torn tatters of the clothes they wore in human life on their mangled bodies. They grinned and giggled hungrily at thoughts of the upcoming meal. Already dark thoughts spread of how they were going to consume and share the child's blood and body parts among the ranks.

Mindless wretches, they were.

But the boy's parents gave no ground. Moments after his son's birth, John Winchester stood his ground before such an army. He had been forewarned, no less of the dangers of his newborn son's birth. He was unafraid as he held the bundle in his arms. Behind him, his wife weakly held out her arms to take the child from him. John was no coward and he was among the few who believed in what he was seeing. The demons, the one black winged angel among them.

He was a hunter. Destroying those beyond human capabilities was his profession, amist attempting to maintain normalcy. How tragic was it that this night, it would all come to an end.

"I know what it is that you want, angel," John spat, holding the bundle tighter to him as the towering form stood in his doorway, taking the mass of space there. Lucifer's demons crowded the windows, casting eerie shadows in the wall to wall windows and adding a layer of darkness to a lightless, empty home.

"But you _can't_ have it,"

Lucifer stepped forward then. He had a magnificent presence, even then. Wings fully extended as he vacated the doorway and took up the length of the room as he spread them. Black in color and hard enough to cut through the strongest metal. He was beautiful. His eyes were a deep sapphire, his hair dark brown and slightly wavy.

Truly, the most beautiful angel to walk the earth.

Arms crossed over a muscled chest. He looks repulsed. The planet repulsed him, the stench of human blood repulsed him. But his voice was soft and gentle, amused somehow. "You are the first human I know to speak so boldly to me, but that hardly surprises me. Do you not know who I am, John? Do you not remember?"

"I remember," said John through his teeth.

"You are defiant. That is good. I know your transgression would have earned you a good place in my Father's paradise...but alas... I am an angel, John. My will be done. You surrender this child to me...Mary and you will be dealt with swiftly. I am not without mercy. Your death need not be drawn out to extremes."

John seemed to consider this. He stepped forward. There was a squirming from the sleeping bundle in his arms. Lucifer was much taller than he and yet still he looked into those cold eyes for a long time. He bit his tongue with his back teeth hard enough, drawing blood to mingle with saliva which he spat onto the devil's face.

Lucifer made no move. He merely stared down at John with those fathomless dark eyes. It was impossible to discern what was going through his mind, for his face betrayed no emotion.

"Kill them," He finally whispered. "Leave the child."

The next moment glass broke as the demons entered, swirling around their master to circle their prey. Lucifer turned away from the coming slaughter. The night was filled with sudden screams and pleas for mercy and help. Blood splashed the walls and added a unique change to the rich wallpaper. Metallic crunches and bones shattering was all that could be heard after the screams stopped.

It was not the sudden outburst of cackling that made Lucifer turn around. It was the unmistakable cries of a child, disturbed by the noise and lacking the comfort from his mother's soothing voice. Inches away from John's outstretched hand, lying it's own puddle of blood was the baby that Lucifer had come all this way for. Lucifer shooed the crooning demons from it and plucked it off the ground.

The child was unharmed. Hard green eyes met the blue and the baby stopped crying instantly. An almost inquisitive look touched his face as he began to coo.

"You have quite a destiny ahead of you little one. A fiery spirit I can already see it. A stubborn will just like your Father."

Lucifer adjusted himself and the child so that he was closer to him. "But I see more than that. It's hard to believe you were given such a fate to destroy two realms. How something so small can have such a destiny."

There was a rustling at Lucifer's feet. John was reaching feebly towards the pair of them, one bloody arm outstretched, fingers trying to clasp an ankle.

"My boy...," John sputtered between bloody, labored breaths. "Dean...My...boy."

"You named him Dean?" Lucifer asked as the blanket surrounding the boy fell away. "..I will abide by that. Fate can be changed, Dean. I see your Father in you...but I see your compassion and will. You have a great potential boy. Heaven would thank me if they knew I changed your destiny."

And Lucifer took Dean underneath his arms and raised him higher than his own head. "You will be my son, Dean. My successor to the throne."

His foot flattened on John's head where he crushed the skull into the flooring with a great splash of blood.

"You will be crown prince," Lucifer brought him higher. A wave of power punctuated the air and the roof blew away to show a circular formation of stars among heavily forming rain clouds. The rain poured but what came was not water but blood and acid. The child cried when it touched his exposed head. The demons seemed unharmed and so did Lucifer.

The night ended with Dean's piercing scream.


	2. II

Many years passed since the Crown Prince was brought into the underworld. The news of the arrival wasn't received well by many who despised their human counterparts. How peculiar it was that Lucifer, who had shown so little love for mankind, had chosen a boy to become his successor in the event of his death.

For an angel who would seemingly never die, this was most unusual.

The King kept Dean close to him over the years, trained him, shaped his mind and body to his bidding. The lower class demons were disposable and laid to waste with ease. But not Dean. Dean was special.

Dean would go on to destroy many of lower ranks to build his reputation. Soft-spoken and more than a little opinionated; he developed well from his early stages into adulthood The King also warned him of the dangers in his new position. There was danger in their own realm and even Dean, a royal now, wasn't safe from it. The jealous, the hungry, the growing powers would seek to destroy him. Hell's nobility wasn't restricted to those loyal to Lucifer, after all.

The boy stopped growing when he reached the age of twenty-five and remained that way in the years to come. For Lucifer had tainted his soul to black that any lingering humanity was obliterated. He was a tall form with long shoulder-length light brown hair and striking green eyes, always seen in a black suit and tie much like the rest of his kind. Dean looked nothing like the angel who had chosen him, unique in his own demeanor and appearance. Smooth skins were never regarded well in the underrealm if they weren't royalty.

Many were still reluctant to accept him. Instead of deterring Dean, this only strengthened his desire to prove himself. He was young at heart after all.

The only living breathing part of Hell that was absent of the flaming pits was a large city made to mimic a metropolis above in the human realm. This city had no name and yet at the very center was the Tower where the nobility frequented. Rather than calling it what it was, a castle, the demons called it the Tower. The throne room was the most prominent part of the Tower with high arches made of black marble and flecks of gold inlaid on the hard floor.

There rested the throne at the far end made of black wood and silver filigree. The King sat upon it with leisure. To differentiate himself from his creations, the King never wore black but white. The legends stated he was once the Brightest of all angels. Even now he emitted a strange glow. Beside him stood the heir to the throne.

It was frequent that they were together. The king was always eager to satisfy Dean's insatiable hunger to learn more, to become stronger. And Dean's desire was always prominent. They fit well together.

The atmosphere was tense this day. There was news that an emissary of Heaven that would visit the Tower to speak with the King. The initial message came without threat. Naturally the King had no fear…Though for Dean it was most peculiar that Heaven wanted to speak now, especially when Hell had done nothing to violate the treaty.

"Is this wise? Reopening diplomatic relations after so many years? What if this is a trap?" Dean had said this already. Lucifer merely smiled and plucked a glass of dark red liquid off one of his arm rests. From afar it looked like wine but the putrid smell of old blood was in the air.

"I've told you before, Dean. They would be unwise to strike in our own realm. Calm yourself," Lucifer answered, wetting his lips with the blood as he took an improper sip and ran his tongue over his mouth to clean the old remnants.

"And this doesn't strike you as unusual that maybe they're here to kill us both?"

"Peace, Dean. They don't know who you are," said Lucifer. "Perhaps they are just here for me."

Dean stepped forward then. "They won't get far if that's the intention."

Before Lucifer could say anything, the sound of footsteps silenced them both. It was more than one. Dean tensed and behind him the King uncrossed his legs and rested both hands on his armrests. High above, a shadow passed through the window and blotted the view of the red sun very briefly. Dean's eyes didn't avert to the collection of shadows where footsteps continued to make their way closer.

"Show yourself," called Lucifer.

Through the darkness a single figure of light paved direction. Radiance rolled off the figure in waves. Now Dean understood why he heard more than one set of footsteps. The emissary had chosen to come on horseback. Covered head to toe in a white shawl, his face was hidden behind a white veil as was his hair which was only visible in a few light blonde locks left on his forehead through the headgear. Parts of his angelic armor was visible. Silver plates with enochian design was on his chest, upper thighs and shoulders. He had a long red cape that draped around he back of the horse. A messenger indeed with that rank. Dean could see exposed, pale skin where the armor plates on his thighs ended and leather strips brushed his knees.

The white horse stopped before them and Dean could get a closer look at his face which, although covered showed a square jaw behind the veil and a set of piercing brown eyes. The horse was armored as well with the same armor around the angel covering his face leaving only black eyes for them.

"It's been so long since I encountered one of your kind," said Lucifer, standing up and beginning a slow walk towards them. "Step down, brother. Make yourself at home."

Though the angel's eyes were only on Dean. The horse neighed and made a show of trotting around so that his angel's back was to them just as he whirled around and returned to his original place. But he didn't stay still, moving to the right…to the left again. Those eyes showed challenge and lack of fear which Dean met with building darkness behind his own gaze. His jaw tightened.

"Home…? You have no place here," The demon growled. He could practically see that smile behind the veil. Cowardice. His first encounter with an angel and it was taunts. He could swear he heard a slight chuckle.

But then the angel turned away and retreated to the shadow where the darkness of the room absorbed his radiance until he could no longer be seen.

"That certainly was anti-climactic," Lucifer spoke behind Dean, returned to his seat now.

"My King," Dean snapped. "Is Legion XVI still guarding our skies?"

Before Lucifer could answer him, there was a great whoosh sound in the air and a loud thud next to Dean. He turned his gaze upon what fell and saw black skinned demon with coarse black hair lie flat on his front with a pool of blood beginning to form underneath him. The source of his wound stemmed from a glowing white arrow embedded in the small of his back.

"I suppose that answers your question, Dean," said Lucifer quietly.

That was all that was said before something else cut through the air at a great distance. Dean acted instantly. Time seemed to slow as Dean reached over his shoulder, gripped down on something solid hidden underneath his suit jacket and pulled the sword from it's sheath, ripping the jacket as he did. Four arrows of the same caliber flew straight towards them.

Dean slashed through the air, leaving none but four burning white twigs as remains for two arrows. "My liege…"

But the answer Dean received was a gasp. He turned, quickly, and found the King slumping off his throne, two pointed white arrows steaming from his heart. For a fraction of a second, he watched the blood blossom over the white suit, staining it red. Dean realized the error. He had only cut two of the arrows in half…not the other two.

Another "fwip" in the air signaled the coming of another arrow, this time meant for Dean's head. He turned just in time to watch it soar past, cutting a line through his cheek before it struck the wall beyond the throne. The cut opened and beads of blood fell from Dean's cheek.

Moments later, swarms and swarms of light plummeted from the ceiling, illuminating the dark room. Radiance rolled off each being in waves. It would have been blinding but the Prince didn't flinch nor did he cringe. His face was a mess of barely controlled fury. Dean had never cried out. Lucifer once told him that as a child his hate for the rain came because it was the only time he cried out. Even now, seething and burning with righteous anger, Dean didn't make a sound.

He had no time to mourn as he stepped forward, gripping the hilt of his black jeweled sword tightly while the angels surrounded him. He didn't see the messenger who issued the first attack. All he saw was beings of radiating light reflecting off silver armor, thousands and thousands of them crowded the hall, blotting his view of the Fallen King. They circled him with ease, their own pointed sword drawn in attack position.

"__Honor___,_ you Celestials dare speak of and abide by…And then you dare to attack from the shadows where even we cannot see."

Dean swiped the air and pointed north at the first angel in his sights, one tall and brawn with a huge mace as a weapon rather than a sword. "_None of you will leave this place alive._"

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><p><strong>Three Years Later<strong>

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><p>The sound of her moans was enough to be heard through a banquet hall. The blonde moved in sync with the man above her, taking a hold of cheap iron rails in support while the male dominated her in thrusts. Outside of the cheap motel room walls, several neighboring occupants were standing outside their rooms in exasperation. Clearly the two of them had been at it for much longer than necessary.<p>

Each thrust was punctuated with a growl and bite from the male with a wild crop of black hair. He had a strong muscled tone and bronze skin color, but a slim overall figure. His grip on her hips tightened when he went pound for pound at an increasing pace, brown eyes wide and adamant.

"Me…Merrick," She moaned. It was the fourth position he had twisted her into in less than an hour, one leg atop his shoulder while the other remained clenched around his waist. She was exhausted but only now, half a dozen hours into the night was she calling him out to finally cease his movements.

Merrick bore down on the exposed column of her neck and licked a strip of sweaty skin there before pulling back and embedding himself in deeper, making her cry out and clamp down on his wrists just as he sheathed himself inside to leave absolutely no space between where they were connected.

Outside was a different story. A man in his mid twenties with short light brown hair stepped out of a blue 07 Camaro dressed in all black. His skin had a slight brown hue only marred by a long scar across his right cheek that stood out particularly in the moonlight. He wore a black tank-top that clung to perspiring skin, a leather jacket over it and jeans, blending perfectly with the night. Even his eyes were covered by sunglasses even though it was well past the appropriate time for such an accessory. He paused, leaning against his door to pull out a pack of cigarettes, clamping teeth down near the opening at the top and pulling out the desired stick he wanted. After a moment of lighting it, the man entered the hotel, fumes of smoke wisping past.

He wasn't at all surprised to find most of the residents outside of their rooms in bathrobes and night clothing. When he passed, some glared, some half hid themselves further inside their rooms. One brave woman with mousey brown hair and a tattery robe spoke up to the passing man.

"Excuse me, I have work tomorrow. And your brother, is it? He's been at this for six and a half hours. Can you say something?"

The other paused in step, but didn't make a reply. Instead he encroached upon the only door which didn't have an angry occupant outside it. The source of all the boisterous noise. Cigarette still clenched between teeth, he blew out a small puff of smoke, releasing an acrid smell of tobacco in the vicinity.

"Merrick," The man spoke for the first time, he had a rich, slightly deep voice for what his age appeared to be.

"What," Was the single reply from the other inside.

"Finish. There's something I want you to see,"

"Of course," Merrick growled and with a final deep thrust, the man seemed to shift inside the woman. His skin became darker, the lamp lights next to the bed flickered as he bore down on her. Huge, scaly bat-like wings were suddenly visible with each flicker of light. The woman below almost screamed in fright just as Merrick pulled out at last. She squealed at the knowledge of her freedom, grabbing her skimpy red dress off the twisted sheets at the end of the bed. Merrick remained unmoved as she wrenched open the door, pushing past the other on her way out, occasional frightful squeaks heard along the way.

The man in black entered while Merrick began to dress similarly, pulling on a black t-shirt from the floor. He didn't face his counter part.

"Always ruining my evening,"

"There's something I want you to see," The other repeated calmly.

"Of course, __my liege___,_"

The epithet made the other scowl as he closed the door behind him. He approached the window and stood at attention, waiting for Merrick to join him. Merrick did, adjusting his shirt collar and coming to a stop right next to him.

"What did you want me to see?"

"There," The other pointed out the window. He was pointing beyond the town itself to perhaps the neighboring one. A series of white spheres were floating in mid air, exploding and spreading into tiny glowing orbs seconds later. Too simple to be fireworks and too small to be man-made explosions.

"Have you ever seen anything like that?"

Merrick was unimpressed, tone flat. "You interrupted my evening for a firework show."

"No. I interrupted you because we're going to investigate."

Merrick groaned, exasperated while he straightened his jacket. "Of course we are."


	3. III

In that same city where the explosions were occurring, the air went disturbingly still. Only ghastly fumes erupted from the burning buildings. Not a single life form could be detected. There wasn't even a trail of bodies to follow. Only a few buildings remained, roofless as though someone had cleaved each one in half and left only debris.

It was perhaps once a bustling city brimming with the vibration of life and energy before the attack started. The ghosts and screams of those countless lives echoed off the pavement, radiated from the empty buildings. But there was no evidence of the attacks origin. Whether it be vandals or an invasion of demons as was the common courtesy of hell spawn. Demons usually left a trail and they never took out cities at once. Not without purpose and not since the treaty was enacted.

Not even a speck of blood. Just complete annihilation.

From far out of reach in the endless black sky, a shooting star blinked, shimmering through the descent. Such an occurrence was rare, but imagine when another followed moments after, traveling in the opposite direction. Because they weren't shooting stars or meteors. A closer description would be stray comets, except they weren't comets either. They streaked through the passing stars again, closer this time, parting clouds and soon to touch ground.

Both "shooting stars" made impact in the fallen city, cracking the Earth's surface and creating enormous craters. One dark figure emerged from the gaping hole, brimming with pure energy and white light so that his face was momentarily covered. The light began to recede into a dull aura around a man…Except he couldn't be a man. The light crawled up his back and from there, two enormous white wings with the span of an airplane, burst from him.

He was a fair, tall sort and well built, clad in shining silver armor on his chest, upper thighs and calves. Only his arms and his knees were exposed. Humans would attribute his uniform as the common wear of the Roman soldiers many hundreds of years ago. A long dark red cape flowed and billowed through the night air, two long strips made within so his wings could unfurl freely were visible. Above the silver plated belt holding the leather strips atop his thighs was a sheath for a long sword that nearly touched the ground. He had wiry black hair, unkempt and in disarray and bright blue eyes. His mouth had a sensuous curve on the upper lip, though pressed firm into a serious line at the moment.

As he stepped from the crater he had formed, his counter part emerged on the opposing end of the street, striding calmly towards him. This one was larger than the first and with much darker skin and no hair. He was taller than him, though dressed identically. His look was much more severe than the first who descended.

"Uriel," The first spoke. His voice was a deep, gravelly type, though calm, considering the dire situation. "The humans have called it the S Prefecture."

"What's left of the S prefecture, you mean," Uriel, sneered in a less deep voice than his companion, echoing with mockeries. "This attack came too swiftly. The probabilities that this was a demon invasion skyrocketed, Castiel. I told you this."

"A demon's work is never this clean," noted Castiel, looking away from his brother to survey the smoking buildings. He stepped forward. "There is not a speck of life here."

"A demon invasion. I didn't say a demon. One demon cannot contain hunger for long," Uriel amended.

Castiel lips stretched to a small smile, giving his companion a side glance. "Caution. You may become a demon's meal if you speak so freely of their kind."

"Haha!" Uriel laughed, seemingly pleased with the thought. "Indeed. A demon's meal. " He drew his sword from it's sheath. The blade gave a light blue glow. "I'll cut down all the demons in my path."

And he slashed the air. From his sword, the faint light left and mimicked the sword's movement towards a fallen building. Castiel opened his mouth to reprimand him, but the airborne slash never made impact on anything. Rather, a gust of wind shattered the unnatural attack as if it never was. From the crevice between buildings, a figure began to emerge.

Castiel drew his sword out too, but he did not attack, instead he addressed the newcomer with a extended stretch of his arm.

"Come forth!" Castiel called.

It took a long moment…Mist began to form but neither angel flinched or seemed bother, staring straight where the silhouette was.

And he emerged. It wasn't what they expected.

It was a boy. He had to be around seven or eight with shoulder length brown hair. His eyes were a deep hazel almost brown. He had a slow walk with absolutely no expression on his face, blinking slowly at the pair of angels. Upon closer inspection, he wore a long white night shirt that reached his ankles. In one hand, he was holding a teddy bear by the hand and dragging it behind him. When he came fully into view, he stopped a few feet from the angels.

"Just a boy," said Castiel, sheathing his sword.

"Castiel," Uriel warned.

"Relax, brother," Castiel took it upon himself to approach. The boy merely watched him with eyes raking up to meet the gaze of the angel. Castiel could sense…something. The boy…he wasn't human. Not fully. Perhaps in appearance, but within there was light there. Impossible. He couldn't be an angel. Castiel could recognize his own kind or even one that was nephilim from far away. This one he could only sense the raw, untamed power now when he was so close.

An angel was never this young.

How could a boy have survived this chaos? It was a miracle or perhaps he was a ghost?

Castiel knelt down and slowly brought the boy into his arms in a strong hold. The boy gave no reaction other than a tilt of his head when his chin rested upon the angel's shoulder.

"Castiel,"

"Perhaps you cannot sense it. This boy….brims with the love and life of God, our Father,"

Uriel was appalled. "The boy?"

"Yes," And Castiel pulled away, placing both his hands atop the boy's shoulders. The tight embrace was given with a steady creep of magic that would put the boy in a trance. Castiel was no fool. Though he may have sensed something outwardly in the boy, there was no denying the possibility that he caused such destruction. He was that confident in such power. It amazed him…but frightened him as well. Few angels had beheld the face of God. Only four were known and two had left Heaven long ago. To feel such power was unnerving as it was inspiring.

"I feel...as if our Heavenly Father.. walks in stride with this child. Never have I felt such a thing before..."

"Impossible," spat Uriel in disbelief.

"Something…," Castiel broke off, unable to elaborate further. He released the boy, staggered back and unsheathed his sword. Uriel cast him an alarmed look and looked for the intruder. "Something is here."

The air became very warm. The cold mist that the boy provided with his entrance was fading fast. Waves upon waves of heat blasted through and dispelled the illusion. The ground began to shake and the angels braced themselves. By the taken battle stance, it was almost like they __knew__what was coming.

Heat receded into a single form, taking in the shape of Merrick. The demon looked different than before, darker in comparison while shadows seemed to draw to his presence and ignite the fire behind his power. The world may have seen a man. But the angels could see beyond that. The scabby, blackened face underneath, the sharp elongated teeth and wings that were lined against his spinal cord, easily ripped out if needed. The most hideous things to walk the earth in the eyes of an angel. Merrick's gaze was fierce and red as he focused upon the three of them. Uriel, Castiel and then the little boy who had simply turned his way with a blank stare, still feeling the effects of the trance Castiel had put him through. The trance wouldn't last long with the boy's obvious strength of mind, but it should have bought them a few minutes to deal with the demon.

Merrick's eyebrows raised in curiosity. Was it possible that the child was the one behind the attack?

"Well, well, well…What have we here? A Celestial gathering and a wee little audience to go with it," sneered Merrick with a curl of his lip. He dug inside his jacket and drew out Marlboro reds, plucking one out and placing it between his teeth. Voice coming out slightly muffled, Merrick said. "It's my lucky day. It's like a buffet."

It was Uriel who stepped forward, the tip of his blade pointed to the solid ground for the moment. "How dare you come to this place…you pussing sore."

"Name calling?" Merrick laughed, lighting the end of the stick so a cloud of smoke billowed out. "That hurt my feelings."

"Leave. Now," Castiel ordered.

"Sure," shrugged Merrick and an incline of his head towards the tranced child. "Just give me the kid. I'll be on my way."

Castiel narrowed his eyes. He could smell the burning leaves of the cigarette from where they were standing. "You know who we are and what we will do, demon. Violate the treaty and there will be consequences."

"The treaty can__ fuck__itself with a kite, fluffy. I don't give a damn," Merrick spat with another glance at the stoically standing boy. He stepped forward. "My Daddy was there when it was written. I'm over three thousand years old. Calculate that by hell years and you're entering condo prices."

"I will not ask again. Leave or we will lay you to waste," Castiel warned, raising his sword to eye-level.

Merrick merely smiled before dropping the barely smoked cigarette and grounded it beneath his shoulders lifted in a half shrug before he crossed his arms, expression lit for a challenge. "You didn't ask. You just ordered."

"Enough of this! This demon destroyed the prefecture! " Uriel interjected. "We kill him now!" He spread his feet apart and raised his sword high above his head with both hands. "Prepare to meet thy doom, you cowering slime."

Uriel slashed the air and from his horizontal slash, eight icicles burst forth like daggers, flying straight for Merrick. Merrick remained still, paused in the act of pulling the cigarette from between his teeth. At the last moment, he reached behind him, over his shoulder with his other hand and promptly vanished into thin air.

For a moment, the two angels seemed confused, then Merrick materialized behind Uriel, airborne, his own sword unsheathed from his back. It had to have been hidden underneath the jacket. He slashed the angel's right wing, drawing blood from the gash. Uriel tumbled backwards, snarling. He hacked Merrick's blade, swiping aimlessly, then threw himself forward in a flashy lunge.

The tip of the sword just barely missed Merrick's chest, who laughed and corkscrewed his blade around Uriel's, once—twice, on the third time, the hilt left Uriel's fingers and the sword went arcing in the air. It bounced and went clattering against the cement at Castiel's feet.

Uriel flushed with rage at his carelessness. Demons were never easy prey, even for angels. Especially ones like Merrick who still maintained somewhat human form and sanity. In fact, it only made them more powerful than the mindlessly angel-eating drones that Hell produced by the masses.

Merrick paused and stepped back, giving a mocking bow as though inviting Uriel to continue. The angel thrust his hand forward, fingers curled around air. The blade disappeared from the dirt and re-materialized in his hand.

"No angel shall give ground to a demon," said Uriel. He lunged again, this time with more precision, successfully engaging Merrick. Their blades flashed and rung , Merrick laughing the entire time.

"No!" A small voice suddenly called midst the fighting. It was the boy. He had stepped out of the way for Merrick and Uriel's fight but now his hazel eyes were wide with fear. The sound of fighting had the boy broken from Castiel's trance. It seemed like a trigger of some sort."Stop! Stop fighting!"

But neither Uriel nor Merrick paid him heed. He turned desperately to the idly watching Castiel. "Stop them!"

Just as Castiel moved to interfere, the air went thick with a brief, heated haze again that had the night sky begin to quiver and the stars blur. Castiel froze, blue eyes wide and searching for the one behind it. Another demon. Well that certainly evened out the numbers, even though he had made it a point not to intervene with Uriel's battle while he engaged the demon. Not until it became something that required his assistance. Not until Merrick stopped his little game.

Castiel's hesitance was his bane. All he saw was a red flash before a searing pain burned above his thigh. Castiel faltered in step and fell while blood poured down his right knee in torrent.

He could have healed it immediately but a palm brushed under his chin, with fingers splaying along his jawline, lifting his head to look at the stranger. Sharp blue eyes met green. He could feel fire in his gaze, flames dancing in his quiet stance, and pure darkness in his aura. The newcomer stared down at him. Castiel got a clearer look at his face when rays from the moonlight crept up and over one cheek. Already the hilt of the blade that had struck Castiel's thigh was back in it's sheath underneath his jacket.

The demon was twice Merrick in power. Maybe three times. Merrick, who boasted on being three thousand. This demon looked a hundred thousand inside. How could he be a demon when he looked so much like a man?

Castiel parted his lips and the demon pressed a thumb to the lower. Castiel's hand slowly went for his sword but the man reached down and caught Castiel's wrist, pressed his fingers firmly against the head of the sheath.

"Your brother will die," The man gripped the chin tighter for emphasis of the threat. His voice was quieter than Merrick's, flat and deadly. There was a flash of crimson behind those green eyes and Uriel suddenly screamed mid-flight in his battle with Merrick, buckling in agony, his left wing, left arm and leg twisting off in a shower of blood.

Merrick sneered, sheathing his blade at the sight of his companion. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

But the demon didn't release the angel nor did he acknowledge Merrick's words.

Castiel spoke slow, peering into those eyes. He glanced towards the child. "The boy…The boy must-"

"The boy will never reach Heaven's gates. Heaven will do with the boy what they do with all anomalies they don't understand. They'll destroy him. I know who commands your ranks," The demon interrupted.

Castiel squirmed in his grip. The sounds of Uriel's gasping was too loud in his ears as well as the drop and flow of blood. His own blood continued to fall. His gaze became unfocused. But he managed to answer. "Who are you?"

"My name is Legion, for we are many," The demon grimaced, smiling then to show rows of perfect white teeth. "I have a given name. Call me Dean. You are?"

Castiel grunted. "Castiel."

The light went over one cheek where a long scar was prominent on Dean's face. He turned to face Merrick. "We're done here. This prefecture has been destroyed. The boy comes with us."

"No," said Castiel firmly, continuing to struggle under Dean. Dean tipped his head back, thumb pressing further on the softer skin.

Dean kept his eyes trained on Castiel as another fission of power shot outward and Uriel's other side tore off as well, this time the side of his face as well. He was a mass of blood and mutilation, torn red threads hung off his remaining skin. Merrick shifted, laughed and sheathed his sword as well, stepping back from the mangles of angel. Bu he still lived. Dean wouldn't grant him the passage of death.

But Castiel let out a furious cry. He broke free from Dean's hold, snapping his neck to the side and swiped the air. Dean jumped back in a whirl of color. The angel haunched his legs and locked eyes as though he was preparing to spring. Castiel wasn't long to act, sending a blast of ice elemental in the form of a storm.

Elementals were common in those wrought from Heaven and Hell. Humans had invented a chart for their elements, some found on earth's surface, some rare and unnamed. But magic power came from the rank of the bearer with those able to harness it. Heaven and Hell utilized Fire, Water, Ice and Thunder with ease. The non-elemental magics: Holy and Dark were relevant as well, reserved for those with much higher rank. What Castiel utilized against his foe was high tier ice magic.

Dean extended his hand, splaying his fingers so that the storm met a large fiery red wall taking Dean's up Dean's height and width, flickering briefly before disappearing . A few of the ice crystals in the storm melted but for the few that hovered in place: Dean narrowed his eyes and curled his fingers into a fist so that they moved, flying upward and shot towards Uriel's still form.

"NO!"

The shrieking cry broke Dean's telekinetic spell. There was a flash of white energy shrouding Castiel and Uriel's backs. They buckled back in agony , a flutter and show of their large wings before the two angels vanished into thin air, pulled away by sheer gravitational force.

Merrick was left staring stunned at the child who had simply put his hands over his ears and uttered the cry that sent two high-level angels back to whence they came.

Dean lowered his hand very slowly and approached the panting child. "You banished two angels…with a scream."

The boy looked up, continuing to sigh and pant up at the two demons. "Yes."

"Did you do that to the city?" Merrick asked, taking a look at the ruined remains of the prefecture.

The boy shook his head and gulped a lungful of air. "I don't…I don't know."

"What's your name kid?"

"Sam," He looked between the two demons, gaze lingering on Dean before he spoke again. "My name is Sam."

"You saved us," Dean observed in quiet admiration. There was a pause where the two of them merely looked at one another…and then…

Without further ado, Dean lowered himself to kneel before the child and took his hand, kissing the back of his palm. "You're our savior. As token of my gratitude. I, the demon will grant you one wish."


	4. IV

**AN: I am sooooo sorry for the delay on the chapters. I'll be honest. I very nearly gave up on this story after no muse came for it. By a stroke of luck, some did and I'm back on track. Again, sorry. To make up for it, this chapter itself is more than twice as long as the other three so far. The reason for this is because I was going to split it but words kept coming fast and I don't think there actually is a good split point without one chapter being a short length and the other still being much longer.**

**Excuuuse my rambling :D**

**I've added something called "terms" basically it means every phrase or word with an astrick beside it will have a definition at the bottom or an explanation so that the reader can get more familiar with the terminology in this world.**

**Again, thanks for your patience.**

* * *

><p>"What?" Sam asked, nonplussed, staring at the hand closed around by Dean. "Wish? What do you mean, 'you'll grant me one wish'? Are you some kind of genie?"<p>

Dean chuckled. "No. I'm not a 'genie'. I don't think those exist."

"They do. I've seen one…In a movie," Sam conceded, ending that sentence very slowly. "Are you one? You don't look like one. You're not...blue."

"No, I'm not. I already told you what I am… However, Sam. I think if we stay here much longer we'll have more angels coming down on us. We don't want that and you sure as hell shouldn't want that either," said Dean, standing up but keeping Sam's hand in his. "Do you know of a place where we can be safe?"

"Yes. My house."

"You don't live here?" Merrick asked. That would have been tactless. A more fitting question would have been "Didn't you live here?" but Merrick was never one for tact. Sam may have been a child but he was one that may or may not have been cause for the destruction of an entire city. The demons couldn't sense what the angels could. Normally. But caution was in the air nonetheless.

"No, I don't live here…," Sam answered quietly.

"Then take us to your place," said Dean, tightening his hand around Sam's. He gestured Merrick to his side who stood next to Dean with tight lips, gripping his free hand. To Sam, Dean said. "Close your eyes and think of home. I'll take care of the rest."

And so Sam did. Disorientating was the understatement of the year on what happened next. It was like being squeezed through a human sized test tube and pushed through the other end. He felt the cool night air turn freezing all around him. All he could focus on was Dean's hand enclosed around his.

It was the only part of him that felt remotely attached to his body. Sam's feet left the ground and a moment later, he staggered forward in a blur of color, face first into soft grass. Warm hands were on him a moment later, grasping his elbows and pulling him to his feet.

"Are you all right?" Dean had asked, setting Sam down to stand even though the boy still felt dizzy and ready to collapse.

"Y-yeah," He looked up, taking in the surroundings as they settled, a sidewalk right across from— "Hey! This is my house."

Dean was smug. "I told you I'd handle the rest."

But he too looked up. The house was modest yet much too big for one child. Dean wondered for the boy's parents when he counted four windows, which meant possibly three or four bedrooms. It had olive painted walls on the outside and a wooden roof sloping downwards with thick ridges between. He noted the garden which was enclosed by a five foot brick wall leading to a gated entrance which was open to all for now. The neighboring houses had identical infrastructure except different color schemes.

"You live here by yourself?" Merrick asked, probably thinking the same thing Dean was.

"Yeah…It used to be my parents' and after they died it was gonna be sold…but Father Bobby helped the government see that I was okay enough to live here as long as I was watched," Sam explained, shuffling his feet.

"They obviously did a piss poor job of watching you," Merrick sneered, pressing a finger to his chin. "What the hell were you doing all the way in the S Prefecture? This is way beyond any of the Alphabet."

"Shut up, Merrick," Dean snapped.

"I was just going to-" began Sam.

"Don't explain yourself to him. Free will allows you to be wherever you want to be at whatever time. Don't let a pissy demon or an angel tell you otherwise, understand?"

"Yes sir,"

"Show us inside," Dean nodded to the house. Sam went on ahead of them. Merrick's eyes trained on Dean for a moment before he followed. They hung back a few steps out of earshot while Sam ran into the gate. "You're judging me. I can feel it."

"Just grant the kid a bicycle so we can go," Merrick ran a hand through dark locks that were dried and crispy with blood from his battle with Uriel.

"I don't think that's what he'll be wanting," replied Dean quietly, walking a bit faster so he was ahead of Merrick. They stood on the stairs of the front porch while Sam opened up the doors with tiny hands. He spotted a key fall from his hand back into the small white night shirt's pocket.

The house was…empty. Inside the floors were wooden and flat. There was a small white couch in the right hand corner with a black table of drawers beside it holding a lamp. A tiny parlor table usually seen in a fifty's restaurant made with only two chairs next to the kitchen which had nothing on the counters leading to a single fridge. There was a hallway next to the kitchen entrance which Dean assumed led to each bedroom and bathroom of which there were four doors.

"Modest living," Merrick muttered then leaned into Dean's shoulder to whisper. "What are the odds that it's stolen?"

Dean ignored him, fingers interlocking behind his back. "Very accommodating. You must be comfortable here."

"Sorry it's so empty…This is stuff Father Bobby gave me," Sam took a seat on the small two-seater and swung his legs off the end, being too short to touch the ground. He peered up at the two of them. "You said a…pissy…demon and angel…Does that make you the demon and him the angel?"

He had remembered what Dean had said when offering his wish, so the angel bit was meant for Merrick, who scoffed openly.

"Now he insults me," He stomped his foot and turned around, facing the door, drawing out a cigarette from his pack and lighting the end of it, taking a large drag and issuing a cloud of acrid smoke.

"We're both demons," Dean clarified. "We're Hell Knights. Soldiers to be exact...Soldiers in the Devil's army. This is Merrick, and my name is Dean."

"Those are really common names for demons. Are you sure you're demons?" Sam observed, cocking an eyebrow. "I thought you'd have cooler names like...Maleficus or...Hood or Sabre or something."

"You want more proof other than earlier?" Dean opened a palm up, uncurling his fingers slowly.

Just as the last finger fell flat, a flame burned through, small as a candle flame, but growing bigger until it was the size of a baseball.

The room darkened even though no light had been turned on beforehand. All the rays cast by the foggy sun were gone. Even Sam was covered in darkness and barely seen through it. He shifted uneasily while heat began to build in the house, blurring the air. A contrast, considering the weather outside was foggy and dense with cold.

Only Merrick and Dean were slightly visible, two dark figures illuminated only by the fire touching their eyes. Dean flattened his palm and the flame receded back into what would be the equivalent of a candle flame. Light returned to the home and Sam clapped his small hands together enthusiastically.

"What else can you do?" He asked.

"A lot," Merrick answered before Dean could. "Listen, boy. We have things to do. So hurry up and make your wish so we can be on your way. "

Sam took a second before hopping off the edge of the couch. He peered timidly up at Dean. "It can be…anything?"

"Anything you want," Dean paced in front of him in a line, ticking off on his fingers. "Money, Power…Fame... I can kill someone for you. That's a popular one."

"I want you to stay with me,"

The silence weighed heavy between them in the aftermath of Sam's words. Dean stopped pacing abruptly to stare down at the little boy as though he was scrutinizing him, trying to read his mind, read his soul. And Sam stared back, almost defiantly, chin raised high as he continued speaking.

"Be my friend. Stay with me forever."

Merrick tensed in the silence. His eyes were on Dean. He was watching Dean's face the entire time. Dean raised one eyebrow before his whole stance seemed to relax and he shrugged his shoulders . "Okay."

"Okay?!" repeated Sam incredulously, taken aback. "Okay? Just like that? You mean you will? What about your family? Your girlfriend...? Your home?"

"There isn't much of a family to begin with. There is no girlfriend and I've left my home a long time ago for my own reasons," said Dean, kneeling before him on the couch and just like before, he took Sam's hand. "There's no real reason to deny you. Besides...forever doesn't hold the same meaning to you as it does for me, Sam."

"But-"

Dean put a finger to his lips, silencing his protest. "Nothing more needs to be said on this. I say yes...I'm here now."

Merrick was all blaze and fury. "Dean. Do you mind if I speak to you alone for a moment?"

"I mind," said Dean, not looking away from Sam who was practically glowing with joy, preparing to speak in a stutter.

"If you please," Merrick insisted through his teeth.

Dean sighed. "Very well. I'm right outside, Sam."

Merrick stomped out, leading the way and making sure to slam the door of the house behind him. Dean followed calmly. But Merrick did not stop walking until he reached the very end of the gated entrance. Making sure he wasn't overheard. Though Dean wondered the harm in a child overhearing until he saw Merrick's furious face wheel around to glare him in the face.

"Are you out of your mind?" Merrick asked, barely containing his rage.

"Not that I'm aware of," Dean replied coolly.

Merrick was unamused. "Swearing a Life Debt* to a child? You don't even know what this child is capable of. He could kill us as easy as he breathes."

"We don't know if he was the one to destroy the prefecture."

"He may as well be the one. He was the lone survivor and you saw how he vanished two angels and sent them back to the Celestial Plain* without an incantation,"

Dean grimaced. " I did. We may know not what the boy is capable of but I don't think he's dangerous. In any case this debt of life will earn his trust if we have not already. You see his face. He's delighted with us."

"Delighted with you for making him your plaything. When you wanted to go to the surface, I expected you wanted leisure time. I didn't expect you would swear away your life to a genetic abomination!"

"Merrick!" Dean snarled. And this time he looked menacing, his teeth were bared and anger flashed through his cold eyes. "State your sworn duty."

Merrick answered as though he had said it a million times and over. "What else? To protect and serve the interests of the-..." Merrick's jaw clenched and realization seemed to dawn on his pale features. "All right. Whatever. Though I don't approve."

Dean calmed as well and closed the distance between them, raising one hand to brush the side of the demon's face, looking into his eyes. "I do not expect you to understand my reasons. When I held his hand, I felt something I haven't felt before. It begs me to understand. As it is, we owe our lives to him."

"We would have killed those angels with or without his help. And with his help they are alive. They will come for him. The one you let live," Merrick stated.

Dean looked as if this didn't bother him. He shrugged one shoulder and pulled away, beginning to walk back up the path to the house. "Celestials and their vendettas are a very small concern. They would not wish to violate the treaty unless they want open war on this land."

"You're asking for open war. Whether you want to or not,"

Dean turned his cheek and smiled a dazzling smile. "You should be thanking me for putting the bounce back in your life."

* * *

><p>When Castiel returned to Heaven, he almost expected the state of things to be in turmoil like his own inner thoughts were. But no, the sounds of the thousand waterfalls reached his ears begging the angel to be at peace. But he would not take solace today. He refused the calming effects produced through walking Heaven's gates. He didn't want to be here, but his brother had fallen and near death. The moment he helped drag Uriel inside did the angel vanish to have his wounds treated.<p>

Heaven was like walking through clouds. Each soul generated their own paradise and whoever walked inside would have their own. The angels could see past the illusions that Father created to the floating clouds that were the grounds they walked on, to the lush and beautiful plain full of flowers you could never find on Earth. Of course there were several inlets and peninsulas high in the distant mountains that were made for training exercises for the angels. The humans could never see that high and they were never truly visited upon by the angels unless it was necessary.

He took flight off the grasslands and soared towards the mountains. Whatever news he would bring was for distress. As he passed the Ten Flags* , they changed from white banners to dark blue. Ten flags that surrounded the mountain floating in the clouds. It was an alert mechanism that told the angels that something had gone wrong.

Castiel stopped at highest mountain where a small plain was. High above, floating, were nine chairs so elevated in the clouds, only the stone pillars were visible. He knelt before them, wings folding on his back over his cape.

There was a long stretch of silence before a deep male voice boomed. "Why have you returned to us so soon... and without the culprit behind the attacks on the planet?"

"We were ambushed," Castiel remarked. It was a pathetic story and one his pride loathed to repeat out loud. "By two demons. They captured the only survivor in the prefecture. A young human boy."

There was a quick murmur of dissent. A different male spoke, his voice much angrier. "You were bested? By two...demons?"

"They were not the same demons we have slaughtered. These were of Imperial* brand. They were much stronger than we anticipated," said Castiel. He heard more voices and rushed on. "They nearly killed Uriel. But it was not by our will to return here. The boy. The survivor...He must have done it. A wordless incantation to banish us to heaven. Generals...He is...powerful."

"Abdication of your duty does not give you right to give in to cowardice. You were bested by two demons who managed to get the opportunity to bring you back here. You were lucky you were not killed."

They weren't listening. Castiel could have growled but he forced calm into his next words. "The demons were powerful. I must insist upon this but neither of them were strong enough or smart enough I wager, to perform a banishing spell. We have seen the effects of the ritual during the First War*."

"A demon has no place meddling. Return planet side, Castiel," The commanding first voice thundered. "Investigate the matter. If what you say is true and the anomaly was caused by a child, he must be brought here by any means necessary."

"Will Uriel-" Castiel began.

"Your comrade must recover. The task must fall on you and you alone. Bring the boy before us."

Castiel bowed and nodded his head slowly. "I will do the task that has been appointed to me."

* * *

><p>It was a few days later from the debt Dean had sworn to Sam. Much to Merrick's dismay, Dean had insisted on taking the couch while Merrick took the floor. Sam had a spare room but Dean declined sleeping there. He lay comfortably on the couch under the blanket of his leather jacket. In sleep, he never allowed the strap with his black-jeweled blade to move or fall off. Sam woke the the demon up with the rich smell of pancakes.<p>

It was Dean who got up by himself, barely yawning as he dragged himself to his feet, his jacket sliding up and over one shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen. Sam was standing on a stool with wheels that took him from place to place as he gathered more ingredients to make the second batch. Dean raised an eyebrow. Generally humans had so many health hazards. Surely a rolling stool was one of them. Yet Sam seemed to have decent enough balance to manage.

Dean was impressed. "Years of practice, I wager?"

Sam jumped, nearly losing balance to fall flat on his back but Dean was there in an instant, catching his wrist. Sam stared up at the darker figure. "Sorry...You scared me."

"I'm sorry for that," said Dean, setting Sam down on his feet and walking back to the entrance of the kitchen where something black and shiny on the wall caught his eye. It was a small and thin black jeweled cross.

"Sam. What is this?" Dean asked while Sam was already busying himself with flipping pancakes.

Sam glanced over before answering. "That's my talisman. Father Bobby gave it to me from the church. It's supposed to ward off evil spirits and things like that. Just general evil."

Dean remained expressionless as he observed the shining crystals.

"You want to go out after breakfast or eat it on the go? It's a pretty day," said Sam without looking at Dean, glancing towards the window where rays of morning sunlight were peaking through the blinds.

"Sure. I could use the exercise. And it is nice out," said Dean. The chain link and crucifix floated in his hands before Dean soundlessly unlinked and shattered the cross with his mind before letting it fall much too slowly to cause a loud fuss. Merrick's snores drowned out all sound as it were.

They ate breakfast in silence, leaving a stack for Merrick. Dean was in silence, speculating and Sam traded several glances with him like he was waiting to ask a question or several. Perhaps he realized they could wait until they were on their walk. The boy displayed nervousness around Merrick. And it was justified when the demon treated Sam like he was a walking time bomb waiting to explode and destroy the whole neighborhood.

When Dean got up, he left his plate in a sink full of dishes and prepped to go.

"Where are we going specifically?" Dean asked.

"Just around. I always take a walk around the neighborhood in the morning. If I'm lucky, Father Bobby will be awake."

Father Bobby. A pastor, Dean assumed or a priest. Demons of his class and rank were unrecognizable my mankind's technology and yet there were certain drawbacks to meeting on a regular with humans. Perhaps this was why so few of them had human interaction for long before slaughtering them. Hallowed ground meant Dean wasn't going to be getting inside a church any time soon. The boy knew, though he would hate to kill a man he was fond of to keep from getting exposed.

"How about you show me the town instead?" Dean suggested.

"The town? You mean the market?" Sam replied quizzically ,leading Dean to the door where as usual the fog was overwhelmingly dense.

"Yes," said Dean, following him and adjusting his jacket more around himself where the hilt of the blade was visible.

Sam didn't answer him. They rounded a corner and Dean peeked at the boy's expression which became decidedly sullen for a subject so easy.

"Is there something wrong with the market?" Dean asked, curious despite himself.

"Well...," Sam began. "When a lot of people are around...I just feel the most alone."

Another long silence, broken by Dean who stopped Sam from advancing by taking his shoulder and kneeling once more.

"But you're no longer alone," said Dean firmly, squeezing the shoulder. "I'm here with you, aren't I?"

"Yes," said Sam, still looking sad.

Dean pursed his lips. "Then there's no reason to feel that way."

"I guess so,"

Dean let him go and let the boy lead him. They were in silence for a long while, with Dean adjusting to Sam's slow pace so that he could take into his surroundings. The more they walked, the denser the population seemed to become. Sam's entire neighborhood seemed to have been vacant save for his own house. But down these roads, Dean could see the cars parked on the outside pavements, he could see people here and there and it did indeed become steady noisier.

Sam must have truly wished to live alone. Or perhaps he was abandoned, Dean mused. If he was spending a great deal of time with Sam, he would know soon enough. At the end of the road there stood the large church that Sam perked up and said was Father Bobby's church. Dean only made a face which Sam noticed.

"You don't like churches?"

"You could say...I have an aversion to them," said Dean. "Our kind generally are unable to step into holy ground without consequences. None have truly had need to step inside and stay in a place blessed by the Lord."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"I've not really had a reason to," Dean replied in a hard voice as if that finalized it.

Sam was quiet again for a long moment before he peered up at Dean with those mysteriously bright hazel eyes. "When we were back there in the S Prefecture...I heard Merrick call one of those guys-"

"Angels," Dean amended through his teeth.

"Right. Merrick called them a 'buffet'...What did he mean by that?"

The way Dean glanced at him then was like he was suggesting it was a story better left unsaid. The boy's face innocently smooth of any deception. It was like he was truly curious of this knowledge. Dean wasn't used to that.

"From a human perspective. I suppose it would be disgusting," said Dean more plainly. "Do you really want to hear why we consume what we consume and consume nothing else? Why we hunt down the limited angels to extinction in hopes of feeding and consuming what they are?"

Another long moment where the boy and demon simply stared at one another. Dean, resigned and Sam still rather curious, even exuding a slightly defiant air that had Dean sighing.

"If you believe as the demons do. You would understand. The angels have a passion. A fire around them that gives them their immortal strength and influence over the elements. Angels are our greatest enemy and our greatest tragedy. They surround themselves in the light of Heaven. Perhaps you know our history enough from your ancient texts like the Bible. The war in Heaven...You've heard of it?"

"Yeah," said Sam, seemingly excited that Dean was feeding the curiosity. Now he was the one struggling to keep up with fast-paced Dean. "The one about the angel that fell from Heaven because he didn't want to bow down and let humans have all the freedom and choice when they didn't have any."

Dean sniffed. That wasn't quite true. "Lucifer fell because mankind is a flawed race. He refused to let a band of monkeys.." Dean paused for effect to eye the expression on Sam's face to see if he had caused any offense. Sam showed none so Dean continued on. "...take his Father's love from him. He wanted to prove God wrong and show how easy it was for man to be ensnared by evil and corruption. It didn't take long, but you know this story already and I'm getting distracted."

He had been talking long enough that he didn't notice that they had stopped before several multi-colored stands, each selling something different. This must have been the market. There were several indoor buildings between each stand but the crowd itself seemed to content itself on the outside pickings.

Conversation was abundant and Dean knew he couldn't talk freely here, lest they be overheard. The idea was to remain and look human, despite the fact that angels could see past that facade. Still celestials didn't like crowding and being in populous areas any more than demons did.

He noticed quickly that Sam looked very unenthusiastic. His head was bowed and at the slow rate he was walking, it wouldn't be long before he was absorbed into the crowd and never found again. It was without hesitation that Dean took his hand and lifted him right off the ground to place him on his shoulders so that Sam was able to see over everyone's head.

"How can you hate crowds of people when you're above each and every one of them?" Dean questioned, reaching up to hold Sam by the knees. He was so tiny, it wasn't hard to do so. Sam was delighted, grabbing onto locks of Dean's short hair as they walked.

The visit to the market was very short-lived. Sam didn't seem to have any money so he didn't purchase anything, nor did he stop to show any interest in clothing items in the store or even toys. He seemed content to be atop Dean's shoulders, enjoying the breeze and sunshine, even at the cost of being in the midst of a huge crowd.

He tried to get Dean to talk more on what they started but the demon seemed to outright refuse speaking in the public on the subject. They stopped at a few places, with Dean musing on human interests with mockery.

Noting Sam's lack of accessories, Dean bought him a pair of blue jeans and small sized red and yellow t-shirt so the boy had something else to wear aside from the nightshirt he was always seen in.

Once the market was far behind them, Sam turned down to Dean still from around his shoulders with the same questioning eyes from before. They were back near the silent neighborhood that was nearly devoid of any other human contact besides Sam himself. "You never did finish telling me that story...I figured it was cause we went into town...but... What happened after that?"

Dean sighed, hoisting up a shopping bag that was curled around his fingers to scratch above his eyebrow. "Lucifer created the first demon. Her name was Lilith. We call her Mother in our language. She's still alive. No one's seen her for years. But from Lilith and the angels that fell with Lucifer, the first of Hell's demons, their army, was created. When we saw the angels for the first time, they were magnificent...Brimming with light."

He smiled wryly then, without humor, kneeling down so Sam could climb down and walk next to Dean."And we wanted that light for ourselves. The angels who fell, mostly. Lucifer. The light was of God and we wanted it. It was our belief...and still is that to consume the light of an angel, their Immortal Flame*, we too would be welcome back into paradise and be as God."

The majestic tone that came with Dean's story was gone and Sam was left hearing Dean slip back into his normal voice. "Personally, I've consumed tons of Angelic Power and the only effect I've seen is that we still appear human. It reinforces our will, keeps us from looking like monsters and giving into primal instincts. Oh, we're still bound by the old ways but this is...a method, if you will...to keep us from drowning in fire and consuming the world."

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but whatever he was going to say wasn't heard. Not when the ground took a brief and sudden quake where fissure lines tore through the cement pavement and led straight up to a single crater where smoke billowed.

Light crawled up to a single figure who's outline became more and more apparent until he stepped from the dip of the crater and stood before them.

Wings wrapped around Castiel very briefly as though he was momentarily containing his power before letting loose a power surge that electrified the ground around him. He stood for a moment while all the glimmers of light left, opening his wings and sending a blast of lightning towards Dean.

The demon reacted until the very last second, letting the air spark around them. Sam cowered behind Dean, preparing for the worst. Though he never felt a single stroke of lightning. A rough hand grasped his night shirt and threw him towards what he could see was a tree.

Yet by some grace Sam landed only somewhat painfully on his bottom, which he rubbed and peered up to where the fight was still happening almost twenty feet away. Dean had also moved, sprawled with feet spread and his body bent like a spider with fingers splayed on the ground.

Where he had been, the electricity crackled. Castiel remained standing, his sword held horizontal with one hand on the hilt and another near the end of the blade. His eyes were closed.

"You all right, Sammy? You mind if I call you that?" Dean asked without looking away from his enemy. "Stay right there while I take care of this one in ten seconds flat."

"Is that even possible?" Sam replied with a scratch of his head.

"Let's find out,"

"You're confident," said Castiel, speaking for the first time, keeping his eyes closed "I admire that for the usual cowardice of your kind."

"You keep having that murderous stance every time we meet each other, I'm gonna start thinking you like me...Castiel, was it?"

Castiel didn't answer quite directly. He stepped forward, letting go of the blade so that the blade could scrape noisily against the pavement. "You can speak of my mercy in later stories. Step aside. My superiors have ordered me to detain the boy. If you don't stand down, you will die."

"You're a warrior, angel. You live and breathe for the glory and honor of battle-"

"Do not make the mistake of thinking you know what I am, demon. There is no glory in battle. There is nothing poetic. War is pain and despair all around. Even you can't be ignorant of that," Castiel spat in return, opening his eyes and beginning a slow circle around Dean which Dean reciprocated. "Your actions violate a treaty that has been put in place for millenia."

Dean sneered, stopping the circle they had created. "How can you talk of violating the treaty when your brother struck mine in rage first? How's he doing by the way? All parts back on?"

Castiel's face grew cold. "Stand down and I will spare-"

"No," said Dean flatly.

"Get out of the way!" Castiel shouted.

"Find another way!" Dean snarled.

And Castiel struck then. Dean hadn't seen him fight before, but his speed nearly matched Dean's own. They clashed, sparks flying where blades locked before Castiel would make the spin and parry that would nearly knock Dean off guard. To the normal eye they were two specks of black and white facing off in the wind.

Castiel's eyes studied Dean's every move, took it in like he had many others so he could memorize his fighting stance and figure out his next move. Though this proved to be a useless effort. Dean prided himself in his ability to be unpredictable and unpredictable was he.

Each moment Castiel expected him to fade right, he faded left. Each moment he expected Dean to throw off the lock of swords, he didn't and merely backed away with a mocking bow so that they could continue and lock blades soon after.

Yet it was not long before the two of them were caught in a threatening stance where Dean had Castiel's blade pressed to his neck and Castiel had the tip of Dean's sword to his Adam's apple. Dean's eyes dared Castiel to move to strike first. Blood beaded down the angel's throat and he knew in his heart for the moment, they were at a draw.

"We go nowhere with this," said Dean conversationally. "How about we cut a deal?"

"I do not cut deals with demons,"

Dean eyed the obstinate gaze and shrugged his shoulders before stepping forward menacingly, eyes lavished with hunger. "Your loss then."

"Wait!" It was just as Dean advanced that Sam called out to them. Dean and Castiel slowly turned to look at the boy running towards them from his safe haven under the tree.

"Kid, I told you to stay right there," Dean reminded him.

It was then that Castiel used the distraction to lunge and slash through Dean's waist. The infinitesimal move Dean made had Castiel's arm locked between his elbow and body were Dean tightened painfully.

"Angelic fiber is inlaid on your bones. I'm sure you understand more than I how hard it is to break the bones of an angel," said Dean softly as though whispering the words to a lover. He twisted around and Castiel's arm bent to an extreme backwards angle. Only when Dean was facing him once more did the demon turn just a few more inches until there was an unmistakable metallic crunching noise that had Castiel falter and sink to his knees, face scrunched in agony.

"Like any infrastructure, it can crumble," Dean finished conversationally, a faint smile playing on his lips before he became serious. "You knew this was going to happen. I have you at my mercy."

"Just kill me," Castiel said. He didn't cry out, didn't utter any outward pain despite the fact that his broken arm must have been excruciating, especially with Dean still holding onto it. "I'd rather die than be at the mercy of a demon."

"You only live one time and you're going to ask me to kill you just because of what I am? That's hardly fair," Dean leaned down so their faces were inches apart. "Where's your sense of self worth and respect? I'm honestly insulted."

At this point, Sam was back on his feet, rubbing his backside and scowling at Dean who only acknowledged him with a slight twitch of his lips as he approached.

"I don't have to cater to what insults you or not. End me."

Dean withdrew and Castiel fell, rubbing the shattered arm that hung loose. "No."

The simple word had Castiel staring. Dean wondered if he knew the effect and power of such a gaze. He could feel himself falling into the endless depths of those blue eyes. There was pain there surely, but it wasn't from the injury Dean inflicted. There was also rigid control that was borne into angels since the beginning of time.

"Why?" Castiel asked.

"I honestly...don't feel up to it right now. I believe your life is worth something...even if you'd rather it not be, in my hands."

And much to Castiel's surprise, the demon sheathed his sword back behind his leather jacket and stepped away.

Castiel shook his head. "I don't...I don't understand you."

"Why don't you stay with us for some time? You may understand eventually," Dean suggested. "I'm sure Sam won't mind. Do you mind, Sam?"

Sam stared at the demon just as Castiel had. Then he seemed to wake up, blinking rapidly. "No...Of course not. I don't...I don't mind at all."

"That settles it, then," said Dean, holding out his hand for the angel. "Do you accept my invitation to stay here with us? No doubt you have a mission. And superiors who will have something to say on the matter, but as long as you don't truly betray your cause, what's the problem?"

Castiel blinked, breathing rapidly. He could feel shooting pains from the break and he continued to look up at Dean as though the demon were insane, but Dean's face hinted no sign of betrayal or deception. Yet that didn't put Castiel off guard.

"What would that entail?" Castiel's words were flat.

"It's not a debt. It's a choice. You're free to leave whenever you wish. I'm just inviting you to stay and learn something more," said Dean, keeping his hand extended and giving it a shake as though to implore him further. "Choice."

"Choice...," Castiel mused before he hesitantly used his good hand to take a hold of Dean's. There was a hum of power thrumming between them, the shift of powers meeting in accord. Dean nodded his approval. He'd love to see the look on Merrick's face when they got home.

"Excellent. Let me show you where you're going to be staying."

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Terms:<strong>**

****Life Debt/Linked Bond****- A Life Debt is a connection between two individuals. Once an oath is sworn to another, a bond forms which is usually one sided unless the bond or connection to the two is mutually strong(Linked Bond). Usually only the one swearing the oath is affected by his/her master's actions( can feel thoughts, can feel pain or succumbs to death) whereas the one being sworn to does not get affected. A Linked Bond/ Life Debt is almost impossible to destroy and only the one who has been sworn to may release the other in order to end the bond. However, if loyalty is shifted and another oath is sworn, then the first debt is disrupted and destroyed. Linked Bonds are more common between demons who create other demons to exercise control and carry out orders.  
><strong><strong>Celestial Plain<strong>**- The high plain where the angels dwell. Heaven. Said to be in the clouds far beyond human or demon' reach.  
><strong><strong>Ten Flags<strong>**- Ten flags circulating the mountainous region in Heaven, floating through the clouds. The banners colors depict the state of heaven. White represents peace, blue meaning distress and red reading as invasion.  
><strong><strong>Imperial Knights Imperial-Class/Knight-Class Demons******-** Demons from Hell who are not beasts but more human-like in appearance. This brand of Demon is high in authority, intellect and Will but usually lacking in physical strength. For every one hundred years passing in hell, Imperials age by one, meaning they age normally as humans do until one day the aging permanently ceases and they reach full immortality and are frozen in that state. Common Imperial-Class: Merrick, Dean.  
><strong><strong>First War<strong>****-** The war between the angels that rebelled with Lucifer against God's chain of command. The war ended when Lucifer fell to Earth and where he fell, Hell was created.  
><strong><strong>Immortal Flame<strong>**- A phrase used by demons to describe Angelic Grace which gives an angel unlimited power. Imperials feast on angel in hopes of consuming the Grace and being as them. To an angel, the power is unlimited, to a demon, the Immortal Flame must be constantly replenished, which leads to skirmishes on Earth.


	5. V

**A/N: Sorry again for another long wait on this chapter. Again this ended up longer than it should have been. But I have 0 regrets, nbd. Once again, I'm using footnotes to explain some terms for Raison D'etre.**

**Thanks to everyone who's enjoying/reading and reviewing so far. It means a lot. And thanks for the patience :3**

* * *

><p>"I pride myself on being at least somewhat reasonable. I pride myself in being a man of principle…Demon, if you will. I'm pragmatic. I tend to try to understand certain situations….as best as I can."<p>

Merrick was pacing. His footsteps had developed a pattern of "step, step, step, swoosh" each time he spun and repeated the same line across the carpet, not looking at anything in particular and seemingly talking to himself. He walked past the lounging Dean on the couch next to Sam without looking up, past Castiel against the wall next to the house door on his other side.

"But some things I guess even after three thousand years pass right under the cracks where even I can't make sense of them." He did stop then, eyes on Dean, wide and nearly deranged. "In what universe does having that-" He pointed at Castiel. "-here…make sense!"

Castiel shifted in place, wings unfurling slightly in a motion of annoyance as he uncrossed his legs and stood off from the wall. Apparently he didn't like the new nickname. Shadows cast about the room.

Dean didn't answer immediately. His gaze was unfocused and pointed elsewhere but Merrick's shout seemed to bring him back to reality. If he was any angrier, he might have gone red-faced and had dilated pupils of rage.

"Calm down," Dean ordered.

"Calm down? We run from the enemy and you invite them inside as if they are our pets!" Merrick shouted in turn, rounding on Castiel. "Tell me he's my birthday present and I might reconsider matters!"

"He's my guest," said Dean quietly.

"Your GUEST," snarled Merrick through his teeth.

Sam looked distress by the fighting. "If it means anything, Mister Merrick. I said it was okay for Dean to let him stay here."

"Nobody asked you, did they-"

But the readied insult Merrick had for Sam was broken off with a choking gasp. Dean had vanished from his place on the couch and in the very same second, took Merrick by the throat and slammed on his back atop the coffee table with Dean's fingers curled threateningly around flesh until his nails dug in. Bright green eyes rimmed with red and the demon looked menacing just as he had before when fully engaging Castiel.

"Now that I have your attention…," Dean murmured tenderly, leaning close so that a hot breath blew across Merrick's face that would feel like the scorching fire breath of a dragon. "You can listen to me."

"Dean!" Sam protested, getting up, but Dean used his free hand to splay before Sam as a sign to not interfere.

"What I do with my time is clearly my concern, is it not?" Dean asked. There was a sound like leather being stretched while Dean leaned in closer and closer. "If there is a problem with my methods, you can always take it up with the King."

Merrick snarled, baring his teeth and hissing but very slowly, he nodded.

"The only opinion of value in this household is Sam. We are all…guests here to Sam, right Sam?"

"Yes," said Sam slowly. "But Dean-"

"Good, we all agree." Dean murmured, stepping back and taking his knee off the coffee table and standing to face them all with a deep exhale. Abruptly, he turned to Sam rather cheerfully. "It's getting late. Sam, are you tired?"

"What? Huh? Oh… Yeah…Just a little bit…I guess I could use a little nap," Sam hopped off the couch to the wall next to the kitchen where he looked shocked at a display not on the wall but on the floor. His "talisman", the crucifix that he told Dean of was shattered in many pieces on the floor. "My talisman! What happened?"

No one answered and then Sam rounded to Dean, speaking quite flat. "Did you break my talisman?"

"Yes," said Dean with ease. "It irritated me."

"Irritated YOU! I could be killed!" Sam shouted, looking angrier than he had ever been, with his face turning red and fists balled up by his side.

"With me around, nothings going to happen to you," Dean replied with a small shrug of his shoulders. He came close and knelt, placing both hands on Sam's shoulders. "Get some rest, Sam. It's been a long day. I do mean what I say. Nothing can harm you when I'm around here, so you needn't worry. A full demon could surely do more damage than a rusty old trinket."

"But—" Sam began but Dean placed his finger on Sam's lower lip.

"I'm right here," said Dean, towing Sam towards his room. It was a simple room with a window to his right, a closet across from it and a tiny bed facing south of the door, directly in the limelight from the window. Dean wondered if the boys parents truly did die and he was left here alone in this tiny shack with no one. No companions. No living family.

While Sam settled under the withered sheets, Dean came up to the side and gently pressed his hand to curve around Sam's cheek. His voice was soothing and deep, like a hypnotic sieve gently pouring into Sam's mind."I know you're tired…Dream sweet, Sam. I'll be here tomorrow, and the next day and the next…until you will me away. I'm here for you…."

But Sam was already closing his eyes, blinking slowly up at Dean with a faint smile before falling into a deep slumber. Dean stood, watching Sam's sleeping form for a moment and then leaving the room. The moment he closed the door behind him he was faced with a seething, red-faced Merrick.

"May I inquire-"

"No, check the perimeter of the house and don't stray too far. I'm going to…," and Dean eyed the door where Castiel was. "take a walk."

"I'll go with you," said Merrick promptly.

"It's a fitting time for me to get acquainted with our guest," said Dean in a tone that required no argument. He pat Merrick's shoulder. "Perimeter check. Now."

Merrick took a few steps back, drawing power to him, shadows that ran through the lightless house and vanished through fumes of black smoke. He wasn't far. Dean's senses ran beyond the home and he could feel Merrick close enough for comfort.

As he approached Castiel, he could see the angel stiffen , wings seeming to turn to stone the closer Dean came. It was like he was expecting an attack and simply waiting for the execution. More so when Dean reached into his pocket. That was when he turned, one good hand splayed over the sheath at his waist.

"My sword is on my back for future reference, angel," said Dean calmly.

Castiel growled. "What is it."

"You really aren't going to get far here if you don't keep your cool, Castiel," said Dean, casually extracting his cigarette pack from his pocket as if there was no interruption.

"Is that a threat?"

"Advice."

Castiel relaxed his stance, but remained glowering which made Dean sigh.

"Come walk with me. I need to stretch a bit," said Dean, placing a cigarette between his teeth and stepping past Castiel to leave. He didn't wait to see if the angel would follow, knowing he would. It was still afternoon, and yet the fog in this neighborhood remained as dense as ever. The moment Dean stepped off the porch, Castiel spoke.

"Explain something to me," Castiel started, following Dean close, cradling his injured arm with his good one.

"I knew you had questions," Dean replied, continuing his stroll to the gate.

Castiel ignored him. "Why have you brought me here if you know what I was sent for?"

Dean laughed. "Would you rather not be here? I would imagine the pompous company of your brothers would get old quickly."

"The company of demons is _hardly_ a more favorable substitute."

"Two demons, and one kid. Be reasonable," Dean exhaled out a puff of smoke and rounded a corner. "And I'm not that bad company. Trust me enough to find out."

Castiel was fast. Dean had to give him that. Even his weakened state, he was in front of Dean in less than a second, bearing down. No one taught angels personal space. He could feel the cold breath on his skin when Castiel leaned forward.

"Put my _trust_ in a _demon_," Castiel repeated scathingly. "Surely you jest. Put my _trust_ in you?"

Dean was unphased, barely flinching. "You should really use more emphasis. I'm not understanding your point."

The next moment came as a blur. Dean was airborne, struck by something hard and solid in the chest. The last thing he saw was his cigarette, airborne, spiraling ever so slowly before the impact.

He hit a immobile car with breaking impact that shattered all four windows and dented the metal, showering him with glass as he fell next to it in a pathetic sprawl. It was only a second later that Dean realized that the thing that hit him—no—-slapped him, was Castiel's wing.

Castiel did not wait to be upon him yet again, sword unsheathed with the tip barely grazing Dean's Adam's apple. "I will never put my trust in you. Were I at my full strength, I would lay you and your comrade to waste in a heartbeat."

Dark blood dripped from open cuts on Dean's exposed skin, and yet he smiled through it, ignoring the blade as he began to slid up against the shiny metal. "How's your arm? It's not wise to be tense when you're injured, you know."

He kicked Dean, hard. Steel boots weren't something to be trifled with.

Dean's voice was strained as he struggled to his feet and used the mirror for support. "Really. I ask something out of concern and get kicked. I can see our friendship going miles, angel. Miles."

"I am not your friend," Castiel growled, staying level with Dean.

"Any more winghits, and I'll start agreeing with you," Dean grabbed onto the side view mirror and pulled himself up. Once he was on his feet, he held up both hands in surrender. "Really. You're not making this easy for either of us. I just want to get to know you some more. Don't you want to know about me?"

"Answer my question,"

Dean rubbed the back of his head and flecks of glass fell where he touched. "What? Why did I bring you here? What did I tell you earlier? You'll understand later. So what's the problem?"

Perhaps it was unconscious, but through Castiel's glower, his blade had lowered. Not that he wouldn't let his arm shoot up with minimal effort if need be. Dean admired his failing strength.

The broken arm must have been excruciating and Castiel must have been a low-class angel indeed if it was taking so long to heal. But the fibers inside of his bones were hard and strong. Tough to break, and when they did break, it wasn't for play.

Dean was surprised he was still functioning normally.

And still speaking so venomously. Castiel let the blade point aimlessly at the ground. "You protect this child. You shielded him from me. Tell me, demon. Do you plan on taking him to your king? This I cannot allow."

"You're in no position to bargain," said Dean seriously, midst brushing himself clear of tiny flecks of glass. "I protect this child because I owe him a Debt."

Now it was Castiel's turn to sneer as he slowly sheathed his weapon. "You owe him a debt. The Life Debt of your kind. Hardly something I take without jest. Demons usually kill their would-be saviors before a Debt can be sworn, don't they? I take it you're simply a good Samaritan? "

The mocking was too apparent, but Dean seemed universally unoffended. "I want to exploit his power against Heaven and hand him as a trophy to my King after thorough corruption of the mind, body and soul."

Castiel was in Dean's space within a span of a half-second, breathing the same air. Too close. His voice was flat and inflectionless. "What."

But beyond that single word was all that Dean acknowledged. He wrapped an arm around Castiel's waist underneath and the two of them lifted off the ground like two shooting stars, leaving a ring of dust to sift where they had been.

Airborne only for a moment, Dean dropped them from a high point onto a rooftop of an abandoned home far from Sam's. Castiel's wings flared out for the impact and he was already fighting, already thrashing and moving to throw the very still Dean from atop him. Dean locked his elbows down on the hard, feathery texture of twitching wings until he could feel bones beneath the outer layers. Hands clamped down on resisting wrists. Castiel cried out when the broken arm hit hard concrete.

"Not every demon you meet wants to maim, destroy and kill, Castiel. You should really give me a chance," Dean breathed when he found it easier to restrain Castiel's movements.

"You're hardly helping your case," Castiel noted, eyes full of open hatred.

"And you're still here," said Dean. He bore down, closer until the two of them were barely inches apart, lips almost brushing until Castiel turned his face away and Dean's lips grazed against a pale cheek.

"Who are you?" Castiel demanded when Dean pulled back a few inches. "You command that demon you work with. I know it. He takes your orders. You are not equals. Where did you get this scar on your face? Demons do not have scars for long. What do you truly want with this boy?"

"My first explanation wasn't enough regarding that?" Dean asked innocently.

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "If it was the truth, you would be sorry."

Dean chuckled and pulled off Castiel after pushing more weight down to support his rise. Castiel tried to get up too, and Dean took a hold of one shoulder plate to place him back on his feet.

"'I'd be sorry.' That sounds like a threat. I'd forgotten how uppity angels are about human life,' Dean mused. " I'm not the one with a broken arm."

"Who are you," Castiel said without inflection, stepping closer and peering at Dean closely as though he were trying to catch a glimpse of his soul. "Answer me this at least. You can't be a normal demon with this wayward attitude…unless this is all an elaborate ruse."

"Are you speaking to me or speaking aloud?" Dean chuckled and stepped forward so they were side by side, a hand finding a place on Castiel's shoulder as he pulled him to a slow walk beside him. The angel's eyes flew to Dean's hand then to his face rapidly. "The angels who assigned you to retrieve the kid. They didn't actually give you a time limit, now did they? You have enough time to nab him. In the meantime, stick around. You'll learn a few things."

Castiel shook off his hand and stopped walking. "And when that time comes. That time to 'nab' the child comes…What will you do? Simply step aside and allow me completion of my task? That hardly sounds like demon behavior."

"Actually I'm hoping by then you'll have had a change of heart."

Castiel continued to glower. But for the first time, he withdrew his furious gaze from Dean and instead focused it away, at the ground perhaps. "That's not up to me. There is no ch-"

"Choice?" Dean finished, closing the distance between them. It was his turn to invade personal space. "There's always that. Even when you don't think so. There's always choice. You made one when you came home with me."

"If I were at my full strength-"

Dean cut him off again, taking a hold of the broken arm. Castiel didn't cry out, but the simple wince Dean witnessed was enough to see through the cracks of a perfect mask. His grip was tight and painful and Dean knew that. His face betrayed no emotion like Castiel, just watchful, careful to see every reaction.

"Painful?" Dean asked gently, his fingers tightening as Castiel struggled to pull away. "Be honest, now."

Castiel grit his teeth. "Yes."

"I can break it further, you realize? I can rip it off without a shred of Will* use. I have that sort of strength. You know that. You _knew_ that." Dean's fingers curled inward, folding into skin. Castiel winced again. "But I haven't, you see. I told you. I like you. If I wanted you dead…I swear, my darling angel…" Dean leaned in, a soft breath blowing into Castiel's ear, just for him. "You would be."

Castiel withdrew his sword from his sheath to strike but Dean caught the sword hand by the wrist and held it level. "I _will_ kill you."

"Maybe, one day," But Dean wasn't playing this time. "Maybe you'll parade around with my head. Would you understand it's value to Heaven and Hell if you did? Or would I be another demon under your blade after the thousands you've slaughtered? Angels slaughter demons so easily but have you ever considered a demon that could destroy an angel? Completely and utterly?"

Castiel was trembling, but not out of fear. There was no fear in his heart, nor on his face. The pain was too much that he felt like Dean's fingernails were going to cleave through bone and sever him further. "You have nothing of worth to parade around. Demons are all the same. Poisonous creatures filled with tales of their sins of the human life. It's all over your face. It's all over your soul."

Dean grimaced and the two of them were left facing one another in the silence. After a long moment, he released him and Castiel staggered backwards. "You have a narrow-minded view, Castiel. Your head is so filled with this storybook pacifism that you can't even see reality when it's dancing in front of you."

"Reality, demon? You are the one who is simply blinded-" Castiel cut off at the sudden sound of blaring thunder.

He glanced up to see the clouds dissipate and reveal a starry night sky. The fog around the small little neighborhood was slowly starting to fade, though not entirely. It was never before that the sky was visible in this place. Not since Castiel had first entered it. And he was sure the weather never changed. The place had been so hard to find in the first place if one wasn't actively looking for something that...called. That exonerated ripples of power...How unusual that suddenly everything felt...clear.

" Did you invoke something to break down the magic barrier*?" Dean asked as Castiel stepped away, distracted.

"The magic barrier? Is that what it is?"

"Explains the fog," said Dean with a shrug.

Castiel sneered again. "So it didn't seem __odd__ to you in all this time that there was a foggy barrier in a neighborhood with no people, mind, save the boy?"

"Of course I knew of it," Dean replied, offended. "It's obviously some type of resonance from Sam. But it's evaporating which can only mean one thing: A breach."

"Your ill intentions have obvious repercussions,"

Dean was intrigued. "Ooh, that sounded saucy."

Castiel ignored him and took a quick glance around, trying to peek over the edges of the building. "Do you even__know__where you placed us?"

"Absolutely not," Dean seemed completely undisturbed by this. " I have bad aim sometimes."

_If looks could kill. _Castiel growled before taking a few steps forward to the edge of the building and jumping off.

* * *

><p>All was usually silent in Sam's house while he slept. Occasionally, there was the sounds of trains in the dawn or creaks in the old wood. Nothing to wake up a sleepy child. Not usually anyway.<p>

So when a mysterious whistling issued in Sam's room, he bolted awake, sitting up. For the life of him, he couldn't recall opening the window or anyone else doing it. In fact, he had never had the window open before. The cold was too much for him to bear. He started climbing out of bed when another "whoosh" sound occurred, accompanied with the appearance of Merrick in the doorway.

"Are you shitting me?" Merrick fumed, staring at Sam in shock. "You're telling me those two dickwads aren't back yet? Aw, hell." And without another word, he plucked Sam off the floor by his nightshirt and strode out of the room.

"What-?! What're you doing?!" cried Sam as he was faced with a whirlwind of color.

"First, I'm going to find Dean. Then, we're gettin' the hell outta here," He dropped Sam off on the couch and proceeded to approach the large living room window next to the front door. He didn't directly stand before, instead catching a peak from the side. "Sorry kiddo, but we've been breached. And you're little fog spell just got broken."

"My little...What? I'm sorry. I never created a...whatchamacallit."

But Merrick had his eyes slanted to the side, continuing to watch the outside through the small crevice between blind and window. "Well, whatever you did. It's disappearing. And that means there's a breach by someone not human, and not invited into your little tea party."

"Not invited?" Sam repeated, struggling to wrap his mind around it. He plopped back off the couch and approached Merrick. Being small enough to not reach the window had it's perks. Merrick didn't stop him.

He did throw Sam a baleful look. "Keep up with me, kid. You created a foggy atmosphere. You let us in on it. Why do you think Dean made you invite the damned angel in? So he couldn't disrupt it either."

_"Why don't you stay with us for some time? You may understand eventually. I'm sure Sam won't mind. Do you mind, Sam?"_

_"No...Of course not. I don't...I don't mind at all."_

"Who is it?" Sam tugged on Merrick's jacket. "Is it dangerous? Where's Dean?"

"To all questions: I honestly don't know. What I do know is, this kind of thing happens. We bolt. I've had experiences with barriers like this before. And all I know is when they break, it's time to move. Doesn't matter where we go. Just as long as it ain't here," said Merrick grimly. He reached behind him and took his sword by the hilt, withdrawing it slowly, pressing a finger to his lips. "Now be quiet. I think...they're coming."

Sam crept closer to Merrick's side, whispering now. Moonlight from between the blinds passed over his frightened features. "What are they?"

"I don't know," Merrick hissed back, edging towards the door. "Could be vampires. Could be werewolves. Could be anything. Just shhh. I'm trying to get the goddamn drop on them."

There was a tense moment of silence before Merrick, the door and half the window was blown inward. Sam ducked just in time to release Merrick and barricade next to a little part of unbroken wall.

He couldn't see Merrick in the dark and midst the cloudy debris except to figure he was under that pile of rubble, unmoving.

"Looky here," said a new voice, high and female. "I followed my nose and look where it led us."

She wasn't what Sam expected, to say the least. Small and almost fragile in body shape. Her hair was long, brown and curly. She had a pale, heart-shaped face and thick eyebrows with sensual red lips that curled into a devious smile as she looked upon Sam. She must have been a demon, sporting that same leather jacket that Merrick and Dean were known for, except her underclothes had a little more color and taste with a loose fitted purple t-shirt and dark blue jeans.

On either side of her were two ten-foot tall beasts, or at least that's what they looked like. Like werewolves with coarse black hair growing from every pore. They seemed unable to stand, only staying on all fours like primates, pawing the ground, scratching their heads. Except their eyes were cold, shaped like diamonds but the color of glowing ruby. There was almost nothing humane about them, from their flat noses to their hairy bat-like ears.

"Mighty fine, Angel meat," said the woman, picking up Sam by the collar of his shirt. "And just a boy too. Tell me the secret. Are you a nephy? Are you an ickle bitty Fallen? You can tell me, Deary. I'm always interested in Tales of the Food."

Sam said nothing. She brought him closer, sniffed his neck. "Mm...And he smells so fresh too."

The ground shook a little and the toppled mess Merrick was under began to move. He threw off the splintered wood and stood. White dust and glass was caked all over him, but when he raised his eyes to meet the woman's, he openly glowered.

"Meg," said Merrick.

"Merrrriiiick!" The demon named Meg sang, dropping Sam with a loud thud. Her two beasts edged closer, but she snapped her fingers and put them back in place. "Merrick, Merrick, Merrick. How long has it been?"

"Not long enough," Merrick remarked, brushing off debris with disdain. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same exact question. Is this yours?" She gestured to Sam. "Naughty Merrick. Not sharing the loot."

"No," said Merrick disgustedly. "That one isn't mine but you can't have it."

"That's a contradiction if I ever heard one. Kiddy, can you speak? What's your name?" Meg bent down before Sam. "I'm Meg. Is Merrick harvesting you for winter and keeping you to himself? Tell me the truth."

Though she looked slightly frightening, and though the temperature of the room seemed to rise menacingly, Sam stared at her defiantly. "It's Sam. No, he's not ...harvesting me. He's a hell knight! And he's going to kill you."

Meg laughed, a chorus of bells resounded before she stood upright. "Is he now? I'd like to see him try. You know Merrick is over three thousand years old? Yeesh, right? He looks good for his age but that shouldn't suggest that...age hasn't addled his mind...made him go off the Hellter skellter, y'know what I mean?"

She paid no mind to Sam for the moment. The same couldn't be said for her hell beasts who snapped their teeth at him the moment Meg stepped closer to Merrick. Sam jumped back, clutching himself.

"Where have you been, Merrick? The last I heard you were promoted to royal pet or something, I don't even remember," Meg mused. "Seems you went missing around the same time our royal highness did."

Merrick tilted his head, unphased. "That. Is not your concern. You have no business in this district. And you know the rules. This area is claimed. This...kid...is...mine to hold and you have no place here."

"You just said he wasn't yours," Meg corrected dolefully. Her eyes flashed and she pointed at Sam behind her. "I broke your barrier. It was a strong one, mind. You're the last person I'd expect to create something so intricately clever and masked from humans. This place is empty and this house harbors the only life. The moment I entered, I could feel the angelic heat...Mm...Just washing over me."

She hugged herself, bathing in the warmth. "Mm..It's so much stronger here. Excuse me. Where was I? Right. I was expecting a nest of celestials. Instead I find you. And a kid. I'm a little disappointed but you piqued my curiosity."

"And I should answer you, because?"

"Because you're outnumbered, Merrick," said Meg, loathe to state the obvious. "And as you can see, there are no rules in the Devil's realm."

Merrick was irate, stepping forward with his teeth bared. "There's _always_ rules. There's a treaty, you stupid girl. We still have to abide by it even if the King is not..."

"The king is dead, Merrick. Unless you know differently, then stand by what I've said. There's no rules. And he's fair game. I'll be taking it with me," Meg grabbed Sam from around the waist and tucked him underneath her arm. "You have no idea how hard it is to find good grub in this state."

"Meg!" Merrick shouted. "He's not even an angel! He'll destroy you!"

But Meg and her two demons were already out of what was left of the door, heading down the garden path. "Ciao, lover! See you in the next hundred years. It'll be fun. I'll strip you down to your boxers and we'll have a gay old time!"

Sam wasn't going down without a fight. Opening his mouth wide, he bit down on the closest flesh to him which just so happened to be Meg's wrist. She screamed and wrenched Sam upward who locked his jaw. The acrid, sour tasting blood oozed into his mouth. Meg screamed again and threw Sam from her so that he went flying outside the gates.

Before making impact. Merrick made a skyline jump from the porch to catch Sam before he hit the ground, landing beside an already dented and broken car. Meg and Merrick locked eyes for a fraction of a second before Merrick was off, running at top speed down the street.

Meg covered her bleeding wrist with her other hand and moaned before looking at the two demon beasts. "What are you two nimrods waiting for?! Go after them! Bring me that angel and bring me HIS head!"

And they were off, hot on the trail that Merrick and Sam were on.

"Nice going, kid," said Merrick in haste, continuing his sprint until everything around them blurred. "Now what? We got a safe place for us to go?"

"The Church! It's all the way down the street. You can't miss it. Father Bobby will keep us safe,"

"All right," said Merrick. "Cover your ears."

* * *

><p>Sam did as he was told, plugging fingers into his ears while Merrick faced the night sky and let out a deafening shout that sounded like rolling thunder.<p>

Dean jumped off the edge after Castiel, following idly while the angel began to stalk forward at a brisk pace onto the sidewalk. "Are you trying to lose me? You do know I'm just about as fast as you, aye?"

"I'm pretending you're not there," said Castiel.

"How's that working for you?"

Castiel clenched his jaw. "Not well."

"What can I say? I'm talkative. I like to talk. You look like you'd be a good listener too,"

"For someone who enjoys speaking, you don't divulge a lot of information. But that's besides the point," Castiel stopped mid-stride and half-turned to Dean. "Does it bother you at all that the barrier has been breached? That someone is lurking in this town, perhaps looking for you?"

Dean stopped too, gesturing easily to himself. "I'm a demon."

Castiel didn't understand. "And that means, what? That you don't care?"

"Pretty much,"

"Unbelievable," Disgusted, Castiel turned and kept walking.

Dean kept up with him. "It must really bother you that you can't flap your wings and start playing airplane...Hmm? How's that arm feeling? You know you'd heal faster if you let me-"

"That will never happen," Castiel stopped again for emphasis. "Do you understand me? Never."

"Suit yourself, angel. I can only imagine the pain you're in though," shrugged Dean. "I imagine it hurts like a bitch to even try to function right now. I could very easily take it away."

"Just stay away from me, will you?" Castiel growled.

"It's hard to do that when we're walking together,"

Just as Castiel opened his mouth to retort, he was drowned out by the sound of a rumbling blast that hit the sky like a wrecking ball. He could pinpoint the source of the power surge almost instantly. Not too close, but not too far either. His eyes swiveled to the northwest street corner. A couple of blocks away surely...

"That's our cue," said Dean gamely, taking a hold of Castiel's broken arm rather tightly. With a swoop, Dean wrenched him from ground level and sent them flying through the air for the second time tonight.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Terms:<strong>**

****Magic Barrier-**** A barrier that can mask supernatural presence. Depending on the level of the caster, the barrier can be breached which will notify the occupants inside the barrier of said breach. Humans are free to enter and exit magic barrier at will since they possess and harness no supernatural power, but "uninvited" creatures must break the barrier to enter. Invitation is required from the caster.

****Will******- **Primary Magic component. Will is the limited magical energy that shapes magic into several powers that demons, angels or the Earth itself possess, and _that Will_ or magic cannot be destroyed, disrupted, blocked, or negated except by using other magical powers. People with strong control over their _**Will**_power may also bend reality to their own wishes and/or desires. The higher Will dictates the amount and power behind magical use. Will can be exhausted if the caster is overwhelmed or has exerted more than what Will they possess. Will power can be augmented into weapons.


	6. VI

They were catching up. There was no use running.

Merrick could feel them on his heels. He was fast. His speed was once unrivaled in all of Hell. But age had made him weaker, not stronger. Despite every physical indication that Merrick looked in his twenties, his age had become a hindrance. Stamina coalesced with Will. He had no strength to cast spells or even do a sprinting jump like he had done earlier. Reflex in Demon was prize, but he had nearly a flicker of energy left after running only one mile. He began to slow down his pace, breath issuing out of him in labored gusts.

"I...can't...believe...I'm about...to die...for a kid...for..._him,_" Merrick panted between breaths.

"It's just up ahead!" Sam shouted from Merrick's arms, pointing straight ahead. "Right there! See?"

And so it was. The towering church so difficult to see in a foggy atmosphere was there. The tallest building in this neighborhood with gold and silver lined windows and a huge white crucifix hovering so high, it must have been touching the clouds. How ironic that lightning never struck it down. Unlike every house they had thus passed, this church didn't have the appearance of something long since abandoned.

Merrick slowed down and bent down to let Sam down. "Go on ahead. I'll take care of this."

"But what about Dean? Isn't he still out there? Merrick...Do you want me to try-?"

"No!" said Merrick, suddenly vehement. "No...don't do anything...Dean...He can take care of himself." He reached behind him to take a hold of his hilt. "Now go! You don't have much time."

After a moments' hesitation, Sam took off, running towards the church grounds. As soon as he was past the entrance, the air seemed to vibrate as though surrounded by electricity. It was not something unnoticed by Sam who turned right around to watch the shift in the air before everything was put back into place. There was no evidence that something was there, even though a sixth sense would say otherwise.

"Merrick! The church...It-" Sam called.

"I know, kid!" Merrick shouted back without turning around. "It's hallowed ground! Unfortunately for me...I can't cross it." His voice dropped a few octaves. "But neither can they."

Merrick was tired. He could feel sweat build up and trickle through wiry locks of hair. His whole body was trembling and his lungs struggled to inhale and exhale normally. He could feel the stitch in his ribs from all the running and he massaged it openly with one hand while the other clasped his sword loosely by his side.

Meg was a powerful demon. She wasn't much older than he. But when did age matter? Youth brought strength and power, not the other way around. She had been around during Lucifer's reign, like him. She was one of the few loyalists who didn't take a liking for Hell's politics. He figured that was more apparent after Lucifer died.

Even so. A rebel without a cause was just as dangerous as something else. Demons were never too fussy about killing their own kind. Not when their power source was on the line. Whatever Sam was to Dean, Merrick didn't know and neither did he care much. He did know that Dean valued Sam enough to stay on this mundane plane. And that was enough.

Whatever Sam was in general, was also pretty irrelevant at this point.

It was Meg whom he saw first, stepping from the wayward traces of fog still evaporating at ground level. He couldn't see the two demon beasts she had brought, but he wagered they weren't too far behind.

"I'm __really__ going to enjoy killing you, Merrick. Like really. You have no idea how much," Meg was scarcely out of breath, but nearly all the amusement had left her. "Where's your kid? Did you chow down while I was away? Because if that's the case, I'll just kill you on principle."

Merrick laughed and dropped the hand clutching his side. "You know. It might be smarter for me to say yeah, yeah sure I did. I drained that kid dry of angel mojo and I'm feeling sky high. But that'd be bullshit. I didn't kill him. Naw. He's back there. You see that fuckin' wooden Jesus stick in the sky just past me? Yeah, he's there."

Comprehension crossed Meg's features quickly and made her grimace. "...You never were a smart one, Merrick. This is a no-man's land and you're standing in the way of the only goddamn fish in the sea."

"There's plenty out there," Merrick contested. He had to do something. He had to say something to make her understand. And in this, his strengthened voice became weak with plea. "There are _centuries_ of time and companionship between us, Meg. You don't need to do this. Just turn around and walk away. Leave this be."

The change in his tone did nothing to faze Meg. Her eyes narrowed as she came closer. Empty of humanity, as it were. She may as well have been as good as her companions. "Oh but now you've really pissed me off. And on that alone, I can't leave it be. You should know that."

The threat wasn't a bluff. Merrick could feel heat in the air, and the stench of rotting flesh grew. Puffs of polluted breath in a clean atmosphere. It was a shame. The demons were drawing shadows to them, coming closer. And if Merrick wasn't mistaken, they had shifted to both his sides. They would share him, they figured and leave the head for Meg to claim. That was the way she hunted. And these low-class demons knew nothing past the kill beneath their razor sharp teeth and claw.

"Let's get on with it," Merrick hissed.

"Why are you so eager to protect this one? There's no human here, Merrick. No rescue party for this...thing you're holding onto. Who would mourn?" Meg asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm not answering to you," said Merrick scathingly, looking from one demonic shape to the next. "Come on, you nasty little freaks!"

Meg stared at him for a long moment, then she half shrugged, lifting one shoulder.

The demons converged almost immediately, clashing together and keeping Merrick in between. The force and weight made every single bone in Merrick's arms and shoulders shatter. He fell between them, pinned by strong, heated hands that dug nails into his wrists.

He didn't scream. Not until the larger of the two demons opened its wide jaws and clamped down on his neck, pulling threads of flesh and muscle away with teeth and tongue. The other demon bit into his arm, pulling and yanking until the already broken bones cracked some more under the pressure and weight.

"Merrick!" Sam shouted, horrified.

Big mistake. Her eyes shot up, past her demons where she locked eyes with Sam.

"Sam! Stay where you are,"

"No, come closer," Meg invited, side stepping her demons to get a better look at Sam. "Just a boy...An street rat by the looks of it."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "You need to leave."

"Ooooh, Do I now, kitten" Meg sang. "Does the kitten have some bite? I have bite too. Lots of it. Why don't you come out and show me just what you can do?"

"Don't do it!" Merrick said over the sound of his own bones breaking.

Attracted by the blazing fire that was Sam's rage, Meg continued to step closer. "Come, child. I will never hurt you."

"Sam, I'm telling you. Stay where you are."

Meg smirked, addressing Sam a final time before turning back to Merrick. "You have to come out to play sometime, Sam...In the meanwhile...I'm going to play with your new friend, Merrick here..."

"Who would mourn for you, little General...Little lord king of the devil's army. You had such promise, Merrick. Dad always said so," Meg spoke through the mutilating sounds, casually checking her well-polished red nails and blowing on them. "And now look at you. I don't even think I can get much of a head. They're hungry, you see...Pity...Pity...Pity. ...Oh well. I'll mourn you, Merrick..." Meg placed a hand over her heart, making the gesture of stabbing her heart out. "I'll mourn you to my very marrow. Just because. Who else could?"

_"Me,_"

The sound created a split second of silence before the sliding slip of a dagger being gouged deep, past layers of clothing and into flesh was heard. An arm draped around Meg's neck from behind, drawing her closer while the dagger in her abdomen went deeper and deeper. Before her, the sight of her demons pulling away from the mangled and bleeding Merrick was all she saw, but not what she heard, what she felt.

Dean pushed her forward and let her fall on her front. Her hands instinctively threw out to catch herself, causing her to kneel. And yet Dean held no momentary interest for her, stepping forward to address the demon-beasts. His fingers were splayed, the dagger fell from his hand.

"Call them down," said Dean in a quiet voice.

"I'm afraid I don't know how-"

"As your _King, _I **command** you," And the words themselves were overlapping power, deeply permeating the air. Meg immediately recoiled.

The demons fully stepped away from Merrick while Dean approached without another look at Meg or her two demons, eyes only on Merrick.

"Your majesty," Merrick sputtered before rolling onto his back. All disguises were lifted for Merrick. If he had to die now, he would at least address his liege properly. "Forgive me. I have failed you. I offer my life in penance."

"If I had a nickel for every time I heard that. I'd be fucking governor," mused Dean. He brushed the back of his fingers along Merrick's cheek. "You can get through this, General. You did well."

And Dean stood up. In the span of a second, he had withdrawn his sword and taken the larger of the two beasts by the back of his head to pull his chest into the blade. The demon gave a pathetic howl before Dean watched the hair slowly begin to recede and a very human looking face staring at him. Dean dropped the body.

"This would be the last time I will slay our kind for your impudence," said Dean, low and dangerous.

"Please, your Majesty. I did not know. We heard that you were dead," Meg said ,speaking to the ground.

Dean ignored her babbling, stopping in front so that she kissed his feet. "Enough. Seriously. You fucked up. I have to make an example out of you."

* * *

><p>Castiel approached Sam warily but with haste. Once he crossed over the entrance, he took the shaken boy by the shoulder. "Have you been hurt?"<p>

Slowly, Sam raised his gaze to meet Castiel's. "She...She..."

Castiel gave the shoulder a squeeze. "I know. Come, let's take you inside."

But he didn't have to wait for the being inside to come out. A tall man of about sixty was standing atop the church steps. Behind him was a soft warm light that promised shelter and comfort. He had tanned, wrinkled skin and a graying beard, almost no hair but a few scant ones, well past the designated hairline. He wore a long black robe with a purple sash that had a gold patterned crucifix above the right shoulder.

"Who goes there?" He said in a deep, gruff voice, squinting at the two of them. "What's going on out here?"

"Father Bobby," said Sam in relief, snapping out of his haze and running to the church steps.

"Sammy?" Bobby questioned, bending low so that he could open his arms and take the boy in a tight embrace.

Castiel stepped forward as well, and the old man peered curiously at him over Sam's shoulder.

"Who is this, Sam? What's going on?" He asked.

" This? This is Castiel. He's an-"

"A friend," Castiel interjected calmly. "Your place of worship seems to echo purity and seclusion. I entrust this boy to you for the time."

Bobby just stared. "You...Wait a second, buddy. Hold up right there, You 'entrust' him to me? Since when was he yours to begin with? And what's going on?"

"He is of Heaven kind. That would be why the demons...Why they are so eager to drag him into Hell. Rest assured, my injury here," Castiel raised what he could of his broken arm in a shrug. "is the only thing keeping me from delivering him to where he belongs."

And with that said, Castiel turned and began to leave the safety of the church grounds. Bobby set Sam down and stepped down from the stairs. "Wait. Stop! I'm telling you, stop right there!"

But the angel had already passed through the barrier, shaking the air once again where he passed. He grew near enough to hear the snivels of Meg, hear the strangled cries of Merrick and see the towering form of Dean, sword withdrawn and held to the side as though he were preparing to knight Meg.

Wait..._Knight _Meg?

"Your Majesty...Please I beg of you, show me mercy," Meg was pleading.

But he wasn't knighting Meg. No. The surge of power that came from Dean was frightening and strong. Nature itself seemed to yield to him and clouds parted in the sky above. He had seen such displays of power before. By the Archangels in Heaven. Small influences of nature was one thing, but visible defiance of it was another thing altogether.

When Dean utilized his power, Castiel understood who it was he was in the company of. Black flames rose from the ground, danced around Meg in a single ring. Her last demon jumped to her aid, caught in the fire where he ripped the air with screams and howls. It wasn't long before there was only a pile of smoking black ash where she and her "companion" had been.

Dean had held his sword horizontally, letting the blade rest on an open palm. He was through casting, but he continued to watch the place where Meg had been for a long moment before withdrawing and keeping his eyes on Merrick, turned on his side and coughing into a new puddle.

"C'mon," said Dean after sheathing the sword and lifting Merrick with both arms supporting. "Come on, Guardian. It's about time I carried you, I was starting to worry you were gaining so much weight off human food that your legs would give out. Now just close your eyes."

"Don't heal me. It's not...It's not...necessary," Merrick sputtered as Dean walked past Castiel.

"Shut up, Merrick," Dean murmured. He closed his eyes and power, red and heated, seeped into Merrick's body like invisible fluid, closing the wounds on his arms, his legs and throat as if they were never there. The drawback was he could do nothing for all the blood that Merrick had lost, and so it remained there, dried on his skin, clothing and on the cement behind them. He would have to recover that on his own. Demonic healing to another demon was simplicity.

Merrick would be weak. Dean settled him down next to the gate of the church and turned his head briefly to the doors where they were just slightly ajar. He couldn't sense past the barrier but his sense told him Sam was inside, and he would be safe. More than necessary considering no demon could pass through to hallowed ground.

"Just rest for now," Dean soothed the weak demon, unraveling his jacket from his shoulders and placing them atop Merrick's form.

"Okay," Merrick breathed, exhaling loudly and resting his head on his shoulder.

Dean turned away and his eyes fell on the lone figure, standing just a few feet away, witnessing every single second.

* * *

><p>Castiel remained frozen where Dean left him. So it was true...All the rumors were true. The legends he thought were means to scare angels into taking demons as a real threat. It was all real.<p>

When Dean approached from behind, Castiel was ready, taking on the defensive. He spun around and had a charged lightning spell playing on the edge of his fingers. Electricity crackled and for the moment, Castiel felt powerful. This power...It would never be enough to subdue the king of the devils, but it would be enough to stagger him, he hoped.

Dean's smile was ironical and amused. "Put it away, Cas. It's not worth you getting beat, all over again."

"It's Castiel. And you never beat me. You ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight. I'd kill you," said Castiel scathingly.

"Is that what you think? Involving a child is a fair fight? My, the rules have changed since I last looked," said Dean easily.

Castiel ignored his first statement, scoffing openly at the mention of 'rules' from Dean's mouth. "Not that you would know _anything_ about rules. Would you, _Your Majesty?_"

Dean's eyes tightened. "...I have an aversion to them."

Castiel snarled and unsheathed his weapon, held the blade inches from Dean's Adam's apple as he circled him. "You have no idea what it means to have a nightmare come true before your very eyes. We believed you were a myth, or at least the rumors surrounding your fall were true. Do you know how many of my kind you've killed?"

Dean circled him right back, eyes alight with a strange gleam. Defeat almost and a grim sort of respect. "I lost count after the low hundreds...angel."

Castiel gave no answer, but a tremor rocked his frame, drawing all the Will he could to him, he cast a charged spell, making tendrils of white-blue lightning strike the ground, the air around them, creating the illusion of fog so he could draw more power.

But the lightning never struck Dean who raised a hand, flexed it openly and caught one bolt as if the element were an object of matter and able to be touched.

Even while his hand took on a grotesque black scab where he had touched it, Dean ignored it, like the pain was nothing.

"If it was that easy, you think I'd still be alive?" Dean asked, before the spell died altogether. "Now I take it that's all you can do while you're hurt. Maybe you should take a breather. How's your head feel?"

Castiel, who was actually rubbing his temple from the concentration of the spell, backed a step away from Dean. Weakness coursed through every inch of him and he hated it. He could feel unfamiliar aches in his legs and torso. His broken arm was healing, but still so slowly. It had been mild before, and now he could feel pain rip a new one under his skin. It was so hard to break an angel's bone, and this damned creature had done it so easily.

Castiel. He who had never had this problem before...How embarrassing. He realized quickly just how much he hated the King. It wasn't just a base animosity for his natural enemy, the demon. It was pure all consuming hatred that burned like the fatigue he felt. "Just stay away from me, Demon. I would fight you to the death. I still can."

"That wouldn't be very productive, now would it?"

"It would appease me," Castiel breathed. "I know what you are. You...Demon...You who have killed so many of mine. My brothers in arms...Why...? How? Tell me why I shouldn't destroy you right where you stand."

"Because you wouldn't have a chance," said Dean lightly as though there was no contest to the matter. "And I'd much rather you have one. Not to mention, this is getting old, angel."

"I can do it now," Castiel retorted with determination.

"And I can think of _so many_ better alternatives to fighting you," said Dean with an exaggerated yawn.

"Like wh-?"

The next moment caught Castiel off guard. In one short stride, Dean had come close and taken Castiel's face between his hands and covered his lips in a heated kiss. Castiel gave a valiant struggle, one hand curling into Dean's t-shirt with the attempt to push him away.

But Dean's sheer presence was overwhelming him and all Castiel could feel was the heat rising from his skin in waves, from his lips, from the arms that curved underneath Castiel's armpits and gripped his shoulder blades, pulling him closer into his chest, where all the fire was. The heat from hundreds of angels that Dean had likely consumed. Castiel could feel that fire there.

He pulled back; Castiel took a breath, but his lips were soon invaded by a warm, fiery tongue that brushed its way inside with experience. He bit down on instinct at the new presence, drawing blood and tasting for himself the salty and bitter tang of demon blood.

Sense came to him, blinding and true. He shoved Dean with all his might and that was enough to pry the demon off and leave him falling on his backside.

"What do you think you're doing?" Castiel snapped, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand.

"I thought I was kissing you," Dean chuckled, using his hand to struggle to his feet. "You didn't like it?"

"It was repulsive. You're disgusting," said Castiel contemptuously.

"Really? Everyone I've ever asked said I was intoxicating," When Castiel continued to glare, Dean sighed. "Listen. You asked me how. You asked me why. Before you pushed me, I was going to tell you."

"You know what? I'm not that interested. I have a mission," Castiel turned away, adjusting his armor plate as he began to walk back towards the church with the same fervor he had used in threatening the king. "And I intend to execute it. The first thing I'll do when I return to the plain of Angels is report your presence in this realm, Demon. And you will die by the hands of my general."

"And what's your General going to say when you show him your broken arm? You going to join your little angel friend who I TORE apart on the sidelines?" Hard emphasis on that word. "With my fucking mind, mind you?"

Castiel turned around, walking back to Dean in one quick stride, inches away from his face. "You may be powerful in the use of Will and magics, demon, but you are no match for the entire legion."

"Oh, is that what you intend to bring down upon me? Hahahaha," Dean laughed. "Oh, that is so cute. That's adorable. Well, let me tell you, I'm not one for missing such an opportune moment, bring on the entire legion, angel. Bring em' on. You think I'll run and cower? You think I did that the first time?"

"_You_ killed them all the first time!" Castiel roared defiantly.

"Because_ they_ tried to kill me first!" Dean snapped, closer to Castiel than he would have liked, he could feel the heat from his breath like a dragon's flame. " Fair is fair is fair, angel. Don't think for one second that any of those celestials _didn't_ have it coming. They killed my Father and I fucking killed them. And I'd do it again. A hundred times over until I'd be _soaking_ in their blood and _eating_ their flesh."

"You're disgusting," said Castiel through his teeth, taking a step back to place the distance between them again. Both of them were breathing hard, and yet Castiel could see the little outburst from Dean gave him an insight on the demon's true personality, or the fragment of it that he kept hidden behind this nonchalant mask. The frightening part. Yes, he may as well admit to himself he was frightened. Dean could kill him easily right now. Even while he was angering him like this.

Yet he hadn't made a move for the sword on his back. Not once.

It seemed like he genuinely wanted to defend his actions. To an angel. But why? What did Castiel's opinion matter to him at all?

His statement put that perfect mask back in place. Dean smiled. "Yeah, I guess you would see me that way."

There really was no making sense of this demon.

"You are that boy. That soul that Lucifer ripped from this realm," said Castiel. "His heir. The Prince. Abomination. The Dark One."

"Fuck. Say Abomination one more time," Dean all but growled, not in the least bit offended. " It sounds so hot coming from your lips."

Castiel ignored the distraction. "You wish to justify yourself to me when your King killed your human parents and robbed you a normal life on this planet. How is that? He took your life away and you seek to justify avenging him? What if they weren't there to kill you, demon? What if the mission was simply to save you?"

"Oh wow, angels being late in salvation, that's neeew," said Dean sarcastically, wiggling all ten fingers.

"You never even considered that alternative, did you?" Castiel asked.

There was no use trying to pry the truth, or at least, the whole truth from here. Dean was carefully composed when he answered with a single word. "And?"

"And...," Castiel thought his words simply spoke what needed to be said. He waited for Dean's answer.

But Dean looked calm yet too held together for it to be real. If the angels were the epitome of emotionless, then demons were full of emotions. Ranging from hate to love in a quick heartbeat. He had a very strange feeling that Dean was holding his answer back with strained effort.

Dean shrugged and turned back to the church. "And that's that."

This conversation was far from over. And Castiel had a feeling both of them knew that.

Castiel spoke to Dean's back. "What use do you have for the boy? Unless what you said earlier was not in jest. You do plan on corrupting him for your kingdoms' uses?"

"If I did plan that. I very well wouldn't admit to it seriously," Dean chuckled. "No, but now I am bound to him. It's a very hard bind to break."

"I must carry out my mission," said Castiel quietly.

"What do you think they'd do to him if they had him? What they do to anything they believe doesn't belong. They'd kill him. They'd rid the world of him forever. You are an entity of Heaven. Consider how wrong that is. He's just a child."

"For now, he's a child. He's dangerous."

Dean enunciated slowly. "He...is just a boy. A lost boy who has no idea what his capabilities are. Let him be, angel. I will not relinquish him to Heaven so he may walk to Death's door the moment they see him. I wouldn't let him go to such a fate."

This caught Castiel by surprise. "Wouldn't you?"

Dean grimaced at nothing in particular. "Not if I had a say in the matter. Look. I don't know much about him. I know he's special...and I know he's very much...alone in this world. To rob an innocent of its' life...well that just isn't my style. Every being I've condemned...well, they had it coming. Or else you wouldn't send them to me."

Castiel sighed. He couldn't believe what he was about to say. He could have bit off his own tongue for daring to admit it. But what else could he do? The situation had changed...and he knew he was no match for Dean...for now. "Then...I have no choice..."

Dean turned slowly.

"I have to stay with you," Castiel continued. "At least...until I receive new orders. My superiors will be expecting me soon...and I will tell them what I know. It's not...likely, though they might change their minds."

"Angels patrol this planet as if they own it," said Dean in a low voice, invading Castiel's space. He didn't touch him. No, not this time. "We'll see them soon enough. And where I come from. Celestial will is a very stubborn one."

Castiel looked back into his eyes, slightly unguarded for the time being. So very humane in comparison to the empty void that demons possessed. Merrick couldn't dream to pull this off. "I have faith, Dean. Some, at least."

It was a rare moment there. When Castiel referred to Dean by name and not by species. He may not have realized it, but Dean did.

Dean's tone grew soft. "You have that, yes."

"In the meantime," said Dean, regaining some brusque nature and clearing his throat. " We're going to Rose Manor."

"Rose Manor," Castiel repeated. The name felt unfamiliar on his tongue.

" It's the only place we'll be safe," Dean explained, then nodded to the silhouette of the church that was still impenetrable to him. "That I can enter as well."

"Is safety your concern? For the boy?"

"Partly," said Dean, crossing his arms and setting his jaw. The mask was back up."I'm not at liberty to say more until we get there."

"Why is that?"

"I'm the King. I'm at liberty to do what I want. I may not know enough about this planet. Believe it or not. I haven't spent a whole lot of time here...But...I know it's a good place to take him," said Dean dismissively.

"Then I suppose we're to place our trust in your judgment for now," Castiel noted.

Dean smirked. "It's settled then. We leave in the morning." Dean began to walk towards the church. " Rest yourself in whatever way you can, Castiel. And heal up that arm. If we're lucky, it should be set back in place at dawn. You're going to need all the energy you can muster."


	7. VII

Castiel did not sleep. Angels didn't need to sleep, after all. Instead he ventured into the church where no demon could enter, and waited. Dawn was soon approaching and his mind was still reeling over what he found out not hours before. As he sat on one of the empty benches leading up to a huge altar of Christ, his brain tangled with different questions.

The King himself had taken interest in the affairs of this boy. Why? And why was he not in Hell where he belonged? Part of the treaty with Hell entailed that Hell did not interfere nor cause disruption in the middle realm. Yet there was Dean, the newly crowned king. How long had he been here? How long had he been hidden from their sight and what was his purpose with Sam?

These were questions he could have asked himself, but what truth would he receive? The demons were known for their lies. Notorious for them, as a matter of fact. And how and why was he, Castiel, safe from their wrath? Of course he could hold his own. In Heaven, he was one of the best warriors. It was no wonder they gave him this task.

But the king had killed many angels in his youth and he seemed to have grown stronger still as time passed on. Castiel knew when he was outmatched. So what was he? Was he a prisoner here? No, Dean had said he could leave. But not with Sam. Then what? They would send a garrison down if Castiel reported truthfully. They would attempt to assassinate the king, and likely fail...War would begin. And Castiel did not want a war. Not again. It would be Hell in all three realms...

All this, for a boy.

Castiel found he was on his feet, walking along the aisle in a brisk, thoughtful pace. Sam wasn't far from him, sleeping soundly at the front right bench, nearest to the altar so that the dim light from candles and red fluorescence shun on his features. Castiel stopped there. He looked so much like a normal boy, curled up like this and using the back of his palms together as a pillow.

But he wasn't a normal boy. Like he had sensed before in their initial meeting; there was light in him. He had never felt such light before. It was the light of their father. Castiel had never been given the honor of seeing Father face to face. Few were granted an audience, however they said he resided in the heavenly kingdom like the other angels, and that he was truly a sight to behold. But his light could be felt everywhere you walked in Heaven. It was paradise, by his own creation. Calm. Love. Peace. Joy.

He felt these from the boy.

So why did the Devil want him? Would he steal his light? Would he take it away unto himself? The boy had such power. Power enough to destroy them all, but he was fond of Dean and he wouldn't hurt him. And Dean already had such latent power himself.

But his appearance, like Sam, was so strangely humane. Merrick's human facade was easily penetrated. He could see the endless black of his heart and soul, but the blatant love he had for Dean and Dean alone. Castiel figured that was why he had brought Sam here, almost at the cost of his life. For Dean. Blind loyalty. Like any servant to its master.

That darkness, he couldn't truly sense in Dean. But that didn't explain why he was here. Why he wanted Sam to himself. Why he swore him a life debt. Why he said he would die for him if it came to that. Why had Heaven sent those angels to die by his hand? Did they...anticipate Dean? Did they want him to die? Why? Did they know something of him that others did not? He was the soul that Lucifer ripped from Earth to make his heir. What business was that of Heaven?... Except that they were too late in saving him.

Thoughts were too much. An angel wasn't meant to think. They were meant to act. To carry out orders. They were not meant to question the motives of their superiors

He was failing his superiors right now just by being here.

Castiel rubbed his temples and sat next to Sam's sleeping form. It was all too much. And he wondered what he was doing here. Why he agreed to stay with them. If the Chain of Command found out he was here...

Perhaps he was simply lying to himself and the answer was simple.

He was _drawn_ to Dean. From the moment they met. His mind was complex, always scheming, always lazily drawling to the next scenario. He was never in a rush, in a panic or fearful. Castiel found it was difficult not to wonder what that mind could be thinking now. He had so many questions, and he wanted to know, now that _he did_ know the epic secret behind his identity.

And he was always smiling. That devil-may-care smile that was meant to ensnare prey. No, he didn't know what Dean had done in the past, how many atrocities he had committed before the angelic massacre and after. And why he was here now. But his mind yearned to find out, to see and hear his voice without amusement or mischief behind it

But all these things...They were _wrong. _They screamed _wrong_. He shouldn't care at all. He should just slit the demon's throat in his sleep and take the boy to Heaven right now. Yes, that's what he should have been doing.

His arm didn't hurt whatsoever. Healed completely. He could actually get the drop on them both. No doubt Merrick was not at a hundred percent either. It would not be as difficult as it could be.

...And then...what? He would be the one who killed the devil. The new devil anyway. The boy would likely die, as Dean foretold. Merrick was already weakened. He would die for his King. Hell would be without it's monarch and then..._what_? Another would rise...and the cycle would repeat.

It all didn't seem very appealing. No, not very appealing at all. In fact, it gave Castiel a strange clench in his stomach that he had never felt before. It was an uncomfortable sensation that he allowed to ebb away as he pressed his fingertips together and shut his eyes once more.

"Good, you're awake," spoke a voice that startled Castiel out of his deep trance. He turned to meet the old priest's gaze evenly. The old man thought he had been sleeping. Far from it for someone who was utterly incapable of rest. It was a curse and a gift. A curse because he wanted to be able to go somewhere to let his subconscious take over and for just a little bit, escape the crude reality in front of him. A gift only because he was able to watch his back without fear of deteriorated stamina.

"You sure took off pretty fast last night," The priest was saying, holding up two tan candles and replacing the melted ones with new. Considering the rays of sun beginning to pour in through the stained glass windows, Castiel didn't see the point of that.

Castiel said nothing, so the old man continued. "What's with that garb? Halloween's not for another week, you know."

Castiel checked himself up and down. To human eyes, the plate armor and long cape would certainly stand out. He had pulled his wings underneath so that they rested, folded on his back. It allowed him to blend in and hide his biggest giveaway of species. Angels were usually more discreet, so being in the presence of humans was something new to Castiel. "It's protection."

"Sure it is," said the priest distractedly as he began a small whispered prayer to the crucifix.

Castiel eyed the expression on Jesus's face. Serene. Soft. He averted his gaze to the sleeping Sam. Similar in a way...But the boy was too small to be a martyr. Or was that his purpose? When had there ever been a prophecy concerning a child?

"Sam never mentioned you before. You said he's your friend?" The priest asked, once again, pulling Castiel out of a reverie.

"I did. But I can gather he wouldn't make many friends with you being the only other person in this neighborhood," Something clicked into place and Castiel could feel a growl curling low in his throat.

Who was this priest exactly? And what part did he play in all this?

"It's a lonely place. Been that way for quite a while...Sam's a good kid though. I remember when they brought him in...," The priest blew out a candle.

Castiel gawked. Perhaps this was the answer...or _one_ answer at least to many he was searching for. "When...who brought him in?"

"Well," Father Bobby sighed, pausing in the act of lighting a candle on the darkened altar. "I remember the plague. Just like some sick air was all over the place. Green fog...People cryin'...It wasn't a good place to be, y'know? The cops didn't know what to do. Hell, none of us did. We all thought the little part had been brought down by plague. It was something out of the fourteenth century, I guess. They all came down here...You see all these benches?"

And the priest pointed all around them. "They were full..Of the sick...of the dying. It wasn't something spread through contact...Just seemed like it hit the unlucky, because there was nothing pointing at a specific source to it all, y'know? It was a miracle I wasn't infected with whatever was polluting the air. They quarantined this neighborhood and the town over...Then one day..."

Castiel knew what was coming next, but he paid attention as one engrossed into any appealing story would do.

"Then one day...Someone knocked on this door, late...It was midnight. I remember. Most of the people inside were in the last stages of the sickness. It was a little carriage...carrying the cutest kid I had ever seen. He had these eyes...Looking straight at me like he knew what I was thinking...And I knew...I just knew I had to take care of him. Watch out for him. Make sure he would be okay."

"And so you did?" Castiel asked.

The priest nodded. "Yeah. A few days later, that whole epidemic cleared...Everyone who was left standing...well they just took off. They said this place was cursed and would always be. The fog never really left. Just started turnin' into mist, I s'pose."

Castiel remained silent for a long moment, pondering. Then he expelled a sharp breath and locked eyes with the priest. "And so you never saw the parents. And no one ever came for him."

"You'd be surprised at how often that happens. Some people just aren't meant to be parents," Bobby shrugged. It was honest of him, and that was good. A normal priest would speak of faith and capabilities of love in everyone. At least this one was more honest than the rest.

"And it didn't seem _odd _to you that the moment Sam appeared...the plague in your community seemed to have vanished," said Castiel, standing.

"Of course. I called him a miracle,"

"A miracle," There hadn't been one of those in a long while. And Castiel would know if there had been. "Or a curse."

"Excuse me?" The priest was taken aback by the audacity. "He ain't no curse. The moment he came here, he-"

"Cleared the place," finished Castiel. He was smiling now, except there was no humor there. "He cleared the place. It's a blessing or a curse..There are no other inhabitants in this neighborhood other than Sam and yourself, priest."

Castiel suddenly remembered.

_S Prefecture._

_Wiped out._

**Annihilated.**

Not a single soul.

Not even a trace of blood in the streets.

"And in this case...It seems like a curse. Your story was compelling, priest. But even you can't deny the implication. This neighborhood is empty now...Everyone didn't just leave did they? They _died_." Each word punctuated with a step closer to the priest who backed away, further and further.

"I'm warning you," said the priest. "I'll-"

Castiel called the bluff. "You'll...? You'll what? Expel me out of here? You'll have a much harder time expelling an angel than a demon, Father."

The priest was startled. "A...A what?"

Castiel's pupils melted into the white and his hand shot out. Wings curled in closer inside the hiding place underneath the long red cape strapped to Castiel's shoulders. But that didn't stop Castiel's show of power One of the stained glass depictions of Michael, the Archangel shattered. He curled his fingers into a fist and narrowed his eyes on the priest. Lightning crackled around his knuckles.

Sam woke with a start.

"What the...Cas?"

He utilized the same nickname Dean made. Castiel's eyes narrowed. "Dean is outside. You should go to him. The priest and I would like to speak alone."

Sam may have been a child, but he was no fool. He could hear glass beginning to splinter and fall from where Castiel's blast of power had emitted.

"You can't hurt Father Bobby," He said in a low tone.

Castiel turned slowly to meet his gaze. That was a threat if he ever heard one. "Go to Dean. Your priest will live through the day."

_Dean's the only one keeping you, boy, from being thrown into Heaven's waiting hands. And that isn't exactly a good thing. _Castiel thought to himself.

Sam locked gazes with him, hazel boring into darkened blue. Castiel wondered if he could take this boy on. The power he utilized was light. It was not an element like fire or lightning like Dean and he both used. It was something beyond that. He had felt that heat and overwhelming sensation as thought he was about to explode when Sam used it to banish Uriel and him back to Heaven with his scream.

Could elementals even hurt him? A blast of wind had knocked Sam away during his fight with Dean yesterday...

"Listen, guy...I don't know what you're talkin' about," Father Bobby was saying.

Sam hadn't moved. "You cannot hurt Father Bobby."

Castiel clenched his teeth. There was no use when the boy was that much stronger than him. He could feel a change in the air. Not like when Dean was preparing to attack and causing heat waves all around him. No, it was much stronger than that. The flames from Father Bobby's candles rose a foot in the air, burning brightly.

So the power responded to his emotions of distress and anger. What a challenge. Castiel was no use to the world weakened or dead.

Castiel unsheathed his sword in one fluid motion and directed the blade to Bobby's throat who threw up his hands in surrender and backed away. His previously broken arm felt stronger than ever, stretched with every muscle inside tensed."You. I _will_ find the truth. Mark my words. Even if it does not come from your lips."

He turned and walked down the aisle, leaving the boy with his "caretaker". He was tired of not having answers. He couldn't interrogate the priest when the boy was near, but he would pry the truth one way or another from some other means. He didn't feel Sam's power abate even when he stepped into the daylight.

Castiel expected the demons to be resting. But what he saw caught him off guard. When last Castiel looked upon Merrick, he was almost a pile of organ and bone with a face. Now he was up as if nothing had happened last night. Dean and he were standing a few feet from the entrance to the church, seemingly immersed in throwing stones at the barrier and watching them ricochet back at them. It was something of a game when they dodged the incoming mini-missiles. He supposed the mere touch of demon was enough that the barrier recognized the stones as tainted.

When Castiel was close enough, he heard Merrick say. "Fifty points if I hit at the spot where the celestial's head is."

Stupid demon.

"Good morning, sunshine," Dean said when Castiel was close enough to hear him too.

Castiel stepped through their "barrier" as if there wasn't one at all. And that's what it felt like to him. To them, it must have looked like a wall of strong Will energy that repelled all things unholy. Which definitely included them.

But Castiel was in no mood for games. He marched straight up to Dean, took him by the arm, felt the searing heat underneath the leather jacket and towed him a few feet away where he released the demon, well out of Merrick's hearing range.

As soon as he let go, Castiel spoke in a short voice. "The priest knows."

Dean's reply was immediate. He brushed his fingertips to Castiel's cheek. "Has he already written a screenplay about it? Who's starring as us?"

Castiel slapped his hand away. "Not about you and I...There..." A growl of frustration. Why couldn't he be serious for once? "There is _no_ you and I. I mean about the boy. The priest knows what the boy is. There's more than what he's saying. He's the only one in this prefecture besides the boy."

"It's a church, Castiel. Every church has a dumb pastor or whatever they call them," said Dean.

"He's the only one. Didn't that seem odd to you? This boy...so obviously expelled all life forms. These houses are empty. There's no one...but this priest and him...," Castiel raised his chin. "I think the priest has something to do with him."

"Of course, he's got some crazy mojo. Even humans get heebie jeebies at crazy mojo. They can feel it in the air. I _should_ know fear better than anyone... I make my living off it...Well, some of it," Dean shrugged. "What's your point, Cas? The priest is a priest. He's old. He thinks Sam is a kid who needs help. And priests really don't move from place to place that often even if there's no church-goers around... It's that whole devotion to God thing."

Castiel was amazed. "You can't be that naive. Aren't you in the least bit curious as to who or _what _you pledged your life to?"

Another piece of the king he had yet to understand or comprehend. Dean had shrugged his shoulders with apathy and showed only mild interest.

"I forgot," said Castiel slowly with the air of someone choosing their words carefully. "You don't care much about anything, do you, demon? It's a wonder indeed why you invited me here. I suppose to see how far the Hell realm has fallen. I'm thoroughly convinced."

"I notice you call me 'Demon' when you're irritated or angry with me," Dean noted, though completely missing the point and not in the least bit offended. "And by name when you're not. I just realized...It's _hard__ t_o stay on your good side."

"Be serious," said Castiel through his teeth.

"I never said you were here against your will,"

"No...but you refuse to take me seriously. As though I am one of your pets or a slave. I am no slave. And I'm not for your amusement."

"I am serious," said Dean. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair in a motion of stress. "Listen. I do think about things. You'd be surprised at what goes on through my mind. It's all like circuits, one after another. But right now, I'm on point. On point more than ever. All I know is, we gotta get to that manor because it's safe."

"That's _all _you're thinking of?" Castiel asked. Way to stay off thoughts of the future and the repercussions of ones' actions.

And Dean smiled that endearing smile. "Wouldn't _you _like to know what else I was thinking?"

_Actually, I would__. _Castiel thought. _Because you're insane._

"...There is something he knows. Something about this child. Perhaps where he came from or what happened to make this entire town fall off the map and all of its inhabitants slowly die. I'm no fool. I know this century and it's capacities, and it's not possible that people merely left of their own accord. You must speak to the priest. Surely a _demon _can instill fear far better than an angel," said Castiel. Demonic arrogance was known by nature. And Castiel knew a good way to convince a creature of hell to see a certain way was by playing to the thing they had entirely too much of: pride.

"The priest is going to curse me as soon as he sees me. Merrick first, we can hope," said Dean, then he drew himself up comically to his full height and spoke entirely too proper. Castiel wondered if Dean was mocking him. "I'm sorry, Cas. But I object to that."

Castiel was in no mood. He dropped down to a whisper. "Listen to me. The boy very nearly threatened me just now. There's no controlling him if he were to lose his temper or be upset at something. You and I have harnessed Will and the elements for long enough. We know how to control our power...Or at least...I do. I don't know about you. His power is tuned to his moods. Just imagine what could happen if he were to succumb to a rage. Understand this. It's beyond you. It's beyond me. If you are unwilling to bring the priest, at least speak to him yourself."

"I trust that your attempt at peace talking with Father Bobby went completely flat," said Dean.

Castiel grimaced. "That would be one way of putting it."

Dean merely looked at him, squinting slightly when he leaned to meet Castiel's stony gaze. There was no deception in Castiel. Caution. Wariness, as always for any demon who was close enough to trigger his worst instinct. But when the King turned away, his expression relaxed.

"All right," Dean sighed. "You made your point. You're afraid of what the kid can do. I get that. I question your methods on persuasion. Did you threaten the good priest with your evil angel magicks?"

How could he be so infuriating? Castiel growled. "I did not. I merely asked and the boy jumped to his defense. His power was...too great...I could feel it. "

"He seems to trust me," said Dean smugly.

"Because he is under the impression that you've forfeited your life to keep him safe," Castiel answered.

"That's one way of putting it," Dean repeated him.

"He will kill you," Castiel growled. "And I will not be here to witness it, demon. I have much better tasks to complete than to wrestle with your mind and your intentions."

Just as Castiel unfurled his wings to take flight, Dean's very heated hand clamped down on his elbow, fingers digging deep into flesh so that Castiel could feel the fire in his touch. "They'll send a squadron of angels, Castiel. Perhaps you'll lead them, perhaps you won't. Perhaps_ this _time, I'll get a fucking challenge out of them."

Dean twisted his head to one side. The smile playing on his lips was no longer amused. "Or maybe they'll best me. I may not be able to kill them all...but I know Sam will. Either way, I'll make sure _you_ live to carry each and every one of them on your back to your superiors. So you can _see_."

Castiel struggled in the grip. But it was as hard as stone. He spoke directly to Dean's lips. "You hide behind this boy as if he was your shield."

"I watched your face when Merrick nearly killed the dark-skinned one. You think I'm joking?"

It was all just an elaborate scheme from the beginning. Dean wanted the boy. Wanted his trust and his companionship to ensure that he wouldn't be harmed. Such was the demon way. In all of Castiel's thoughts, he hadn't considered that. The demon was already so arrogant. But to use this weapon against Heaven when Heaven feared it...

Castiel was defiant. "You cannot use Sam against all of Heaven. Not for long."

Dean shoved him. Hard. Castiel staggered but regained his composure while Dean crossed his arms. "That remains to be seen. Choice. You have one. I've made mine. Either way, there's a war coming. Consider me your only option on postponing it."

Before Castiel could answer, someone cried a name. They both turned to see Sam running towards them. Dean was witness to watching him pass through the hallowed ground barrier unscathed. Sam didn't pay attention to a single thing, his eyes were on Dean the whole time. And when he was close enough, the demon knelt down and Sam jumped into his arms.

"I was so scared. Who was she? Did she hurt you?" Sam's voice muffled into Dean's jacket.

"No, she didn't hurt me," Dean replied, patting Sam's back.

"Is she...Is she gone?" Sam asked, pulling back to read Dean's face. "Did you kill her?"

Aware of Castiel at his back, Dean shook his head. "No, I didn't kill her. I just sent her somewhere far away. Somewhere where she can't hurt you. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded then glanced quickly at Castiel. His voice dropped to a whisper. "He almost hurt Father Bobby."

Blessed as Castiel was with enhanced hearing, he chuckled darkly . "Because your priest knows why there are no-"

"Castiel," Dean's voice was a warning.

"Very well," Castiel conceded. "But rest assured, I will get to the bottom of this."

He expected Dean's mockery, but when the demon looked into his eyes, he could see the sincerity. Good. He was taking him seriously for once.

But Dean was already addressing Sam. "Sam, I'm going to take you somewhere safe. This location has been compromised."

"But...what?" Sam answered, startled. "But you...but this is my home. I grew up here."

_Did you? _was Castiel's unspoken thought.

"Meg being here complicates things. I took care of it, but there may be more coming now and I can't protect you properly unless we're somewhere they can't find...Somewhere safe. You'll like it there, I promise,"

"But I told you, I don't like crowds," Sam protested, making a face at the word "crowded".

"You did," Dean agreed. "But we have no choice and you'll have to trust me. Can you do that, Sammy? I swear this is in your best interests."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" whispered Sam. How he got to that conclusion was beyond anyone. Though a crowd was a good place to abandon a child. That is, a child without monstrous, unknown power.

Dean touched his cheek. "Why would you think that? I made you a promise to stay with you forever. You think I'd go back on that now?"

"No...," Sam sniffed. "No I don't think that."

"Good," Dean replied, pulling Sam's arms towards him so that he could pick the boy up. "Do you trust me, then?"

"I trust you, Dean,"

Castiel watched as the pair headed back towards Merrick. His eyes narrowed as he reflected on the choice Dean gave him. War or postponed war. What was the difference? Was he, Castiel, rebelling by staying with a demon for his amusement? They would look down upon him if they knew. But if they knew why. Just why. Why he couldn't bear to see Heaven wage war with Hell on a realm that was no place for the carnage that both Heaven and Hell could bestow.

With a grunt, Castiel followed the two.

As he came close, Dean was explaining the situation to Merrick. Sam had already gone inside, far from the two demons.

"Rose Manor," Merrick was repeating incredulously. "In Paradise Rock? You do realize we're probably not welcome there."

"Aren't you?" Castiel asked to announce his presence. "What is this Rose Manor that you're not welcome to?"

Merrick growled, always contemptuous at the presence of an angel. "I wouldn't expect _you _to understand. You're probably too young. But Dean, he knows."

A wordless communication passed between them. Merrick's disagreement, his fury was all over his form while Dean responded with passive indifference, face betraying no emotion. Indeed there was a moment where Castiel could have sworn he saw Dean shake his head in dismissal of Merrick's wordless protests.

Finally, perhaps to benefit Castiel and remind Dean, Merrick spoke up. "It's the place where our King fell from the heavens billions of years ago."

"Is it really?" Castiel looked intrigued. He was at the battle. Not so young as Merrick initially thought. He had fought alongside many angels who had died on that day...but Lucifer's fall from Heaven was something only the angels witnessed as a defeat. From there, Hell was created. But that knowledge came later. There was no exact location in the texts, in the legends...And the Archangels never spoke of such things. Not to the lesser angels.

"Yes," Dean answered both of them.

"How can that be okay to you?" Merrick opened his mouth and closed it. He let out a soft breath to calm himself. "Your Majesty, if you please...You know what is nearby...What if they-"

"Which they won't,"

"Yeah but if they do,"

"And they won't," said Dean firmly. "You should trust in my judgment...Why does no one do that?"

"Should I draw up a list now...or later?" said Merrick through his teeth.

"The legends say Lucifer fell into the planet's surface and where he fell-" Castiel began.

"Hell was created," Dean finished, keeping his eyes on Merrick.

"So it's a gateway to Hell," said Castiel slowly, not following the logic. He tilted his head in comical curiosity. "And you're afraid to go there, why?"

"Oh he's not afraid of the door to Hell. There are dimensional doors* all over this planet. Gates to Hell or wherever. This is the first one in existence, but that means very little here. No, what His Majesty _should _be frightened of is the Temple of Light."

Dean slid his gaze slowly onto Castiel. "It's a little group that you'd love. They're fanatical. They think all kinds of crap about Jesus and serving the rite to passage. You know I honestly never read the bible." He rounded on Merrick. "Which means I don't care."

"The Temple is sacred. The priests call upon the holy spirits, the angels...You name it. Most of them are said to be descended directly from the line who witnessed the fall of our King. They built their temple there to- "

"They're also in the mountains. So we don't need to speak of them," said Dean with finality. And before anyone could get another word in, Sam was walking down the church steps with Father Bobby following close behind him. Dean got as close as the barrier would allow between them. "Ah, you're ready, then, Sam?"

"Just hang on a minute there, son," Bobby was saying, eyebrows furrowed as he pulled to a stop right before Dean. "Sam here just told me you plan on taking him away. Didn't say where. Just said he was goin' with you."

Bobby sure was a piece of work. He had witnessed a near death experience with an angel, perhaps saw the attack with Meg at least from afar. And yet his composure was still intact. This added to Castiel's suspicions surrounding the boy and this priest.

Dean gave Sam a look of approval before addressing the words. "Yes, that's right."

"I don't think I can allow that. First off, I don't know who the hell any of you are, for one. Your friend here," Bobby gestured to Castiel with a finger and a glare. "threatened me just now."

"Did he?" Dean cocked one eyebrow at Castiel who returned his gaze dolefully. "That's new."

"I wanna know where you're takin' him. And why. And what you did to endanger his life. Up until last night, I thought everything was fine here. Until you showed up with your freak show."

"My freak show," Dean repeated. "is keeping him safe. This location has been compromised. The day I have to explain myself to a priest is the day I know shit is going downhill. "

"Dean...," Sam began.

" Your location's been 'compromised.' What does that even mean?"

"In simple terms it means if he stays here with you, he's in danger, pops," Merrick rectified.

"And I should trust him with you?" Bobby laughed. "Why the hell would I be that stupid?"

" I was going to say wise," said Dean, daring to step closer until he was invading the man's space as much as he could. "Because like you said: You don't know who we are. I wager you don't know what we're capable of. But what I can tell you is I'm much more capable of protecting Sam than an old man in a church that's just waiting to be game for slaughter. I don't think you're stupid, Father. I think you saw exactly what you think you saw last night. Some crazy fucking bitch with hairless beasts that don't look like they're from this world. You know the best part? You tell anyone, you think they're gonna believe you? Fuck no, they're not. But now you know that something evil exists beyond the fog. And maybe, just maybe? You're nothing in comparison to it. Nothing you have can deal any damage to them...But me? Let's just say I'm a fucking weapon of it's own...and you can be damn sure I'll watch out for Sam until my heart stops beating."

There was that smile again. That smile that Castiel was loathe to see and fascinated by. It brokered no arguments. A man amused by a situation where there was trouble would hardly be considered sane. Dangerous...but perhaps dangerous was what was needed to protect properly.

The old man looked mutinous. But as he was outnumbered, he took a step back and sighed. "Bring him back."

"You have my word. I'll return him to you," said Dean, relaxing his shoulders and turning around. The others followed suit with Merrick and Sam on either side of Dean.

Dean scooped Sam up in his arms to allow room for the slow-moving Castiel, who didn't deign to take the invite and walk next to Dean.

"Dean...I do want to go back one day," said Sam from the circle of Dean's arms.

"We're bringing him back?" Merrick asked.

"I wasn't lying. And the priest is a good man...You'll come back here, Sam. I promise. One day. But just not right now."

"Okay..," Sam conceded.

"You're not telling me we're walking _all _the way there?" said Merrick incredulously after a long moment.

"Why not?" Dean retorted. "It's only a one day and night walk. Besides...You could use the exercise, Merrick. You slacked off in that last fight."

"Like Hell," Merrick growled.

They were an odd pair, Castiel noted as he soundlessly followed, keeping his distance by at least six feet... The demons were both smiling. There was a camaraderie there that he had never seen before in all his life. He had spent the long run among brothers. And he could gladly say he would have died for any one of them. But there was never time, nor room for jokes...for happiness. There was loyalty. Blinding and true, and he could see that same loyalty here. Castiel could even see the love there. Like a big brother to his younger. Even though Dean was king. His follower would follow him to the ends of the earth.

Castiel wanted to know...All the things inside. More and more. What was going on inside that puzzle of a mind? What makes a damned soul stolen from Earth smile and laugh like a human being. Is it real? Is he just pretending?

* * *

><p><strong>Terms:<strong>

**Dimension Door: **Doors that lead to other parts of realms. Heaven, Hell, Middle Realm. Doors require payment, usually in the payment of a soul or a source of power to open.


	8. VIII

"This is ridiculous. I have absolutely no need to change my attire,"

Castiel was furious. But Dean had insisted on pulling him away from the other two to grab human clothing for Castiel to don. "Grab" was a loose term. Dean was saying that they weren't going to pay for it. 'Why pay when you can just take it and never come back?' as he put it. Which was appropriately called stealing.

It was late. Midnight late. The stores in this city were pretty much closed, but there were still parked cars all around and occasional passerby. Dean hissed and stuffed Castiel and himself back into the dark alleyway they were enclosed in every time someone would get close enough to catch a glimpse of them.

"I'm not walking around with you wearing 'essence of the roman warrior' anymore," whispered Dean simply when there was no one to overhear them.

"It's not Roman Warriors. The Romans got their attire from us-"

"Shh," Dean wasn't paying attention. His eyes were trained on some building across the store. "There we go. There's a Gap."

Castiel followed his gaze. "I see no gap."

"It's a store," said Dean, grabbing a hold of Castiel's arm. He took a quick glance left and right down the street before towing Castiel across the road and walking straight up to the door. "Keep lookout. If someone comes by or you see a car coming, poke me in the back."

"It's closed," Castiel noted, reading the sign that displayed the open hours. Castiel should have guessed that wouldn't have stopped the demon. Dean huffed a short breath, ignoring Castiel and proceeded to take out a long pin to prod the keyhole.

"I'm sure there's a back door if you insist on this," said Castiel with a sigh.

"I'm the King of Hell," Dean replied as if that answered everything. When Castiel said nothing. Dean dropped the lockpick and took a few steps away from the door. With each word, he took a step closer. "You think I honestly…_care_ about backdoors."

And he did what Castiel would never suspect for someone so full of Will and magicks. He full on body-slammed that door. The glass shattered and every single piece fell from the frame. His hand, already inside through it, busied itself with the inside lock. He pushed the door open, flashed Castiel a daring smile before walking right in.

"Why'd you bother with that little piece of metal, then, I wonder?" Castiel questioned as he pushed the door just slightly and carefully stepped over glass in following Dean.

There was carousels and carousels of thick clothing. From jackets to sweaters. Aisles and Aisles of it. Whoever worked here didn't clean. The floor was littered with wool. Winter, after all. Dean didn't stop at anything particular. In fact, he looked at Castiel.

"Pick something,"

What a phrase. There was outfits in all types of colors everywhere. Castiel was dumbfounded by all the color. It was cold outside, wasn't it? Weren't humans susceptible to the cold? Why did they need so many colors? Yet these garments had checkered patterns in different colors made out of wool or what have you. Was the purpose to stand out?

He looked between Dean and himself. At least the demon wore black as a fitting reflection of his very tainted soul. And at least Castiel's armor provided ample protection enough from outside.

"I don't want to-"

Dean seemed to sense the direction of his thoughts. He crossed his arms. "We're not leaving until you pick something."

"I don't know what to pick," said Castiel, casting a disdainful look about them.

Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose which Castiel took to note as an act of stress. He walked from Castiel towards the several carousels of clothing, occasionally pulling out a shirt of pair of jeans and shaking his head. It was a strange act. Each time, Dean seemed to hold them up in Castiel's direction and then violently shake his head.

"It would not matter anyway," Castiel told him after a moment. "My armor is a part of me."

Dean dropped the plaid shirt he was holding. The hanger clanged noisily. "The armor is a part of you."

"Yes,"

"How is that even possible. It's physical. It's not welded into your skin…or is it?" The demon was too close now, swaying to one side as he often did. With that smile.

That damn smile.

Castiel automatically took a step back. "It's not welded into my skin. It's part of me."

"It can be taken off," said Dean. And he actually made to take a hold of Castiel's shoulder which Castiel evaded.

"It can," Castiel conceded. "But it would come back."

"What do you mean?" Dean tried for his shoulder again and paused in the act. "This armor can come off. Hold still."

Castiel slapped his hand away with enough force to break his wrist if he were human. "I'm not going to let you unclip my armor for me."

Dean's smile grew wider. "But then you _are_ going to unclip it?"

"No," Not with that type of look on the demon's face. "Not in front of you."

"What are you trying to hide under there?" Dean persisted, closing the distance between them yet again. "C'mon, angel. I've seen all there is to see in every department. More than I can handle, even. You don't need to be shy."

"It's not about being shy," said Castiel honestly. "It's about principle."

He could see the comprehension reach Dean. Nudity fear was something human. Yet all the taboo had a core. And that: the fear of being so fully exposed. So vulnerable. To be put in a vulnerable place against his natural enemy was something Castiel couldn't afford to do. His armor protected most of his body from any attack both frontal and back.

Dean remained thoughtful, wrapping an arm around himself and brushing his lower lip with two fingers. "Let me ask you something, Cas. Do you honestly think I would sleep around you if I feared being killed by you? It's been two nights since we left town and I haven't woken to a blade pressed to my throat, aye?"

It was a trick question.

"Your reflexes are what made you able to defeat the angels that laid siege on your kingdom," said Castiel stoically. "I would be foolish to attack you in your slumber. You would waken."

"So you do plan to attack me at a given opportunity?"

It was a strange question, because as it was, Castiel __had __thought about killing Dean in his sleep once or twice before when he first laid eyes on him. Before he had attacked Dean and Sam on the road that day, he had been watching for a short time, mesmerized in their ways in the few days that followed. He waited for the demon to attack the child, to attack the town even, to raze and destroy or show any intent of doing so. But he hadn't. And that confused Castiel. It was enough to stop him. Make him pause and draw closer. Instead, the boy and the two demons acted as though they all lived with each other and there was nothing wrong about it. As though they deserved the human life that was bestowed upon mankind as a test to the afterlife.

The killing was something he would have done out of pure instinct and no thought. That was how he had carried himself and how he carried his missions. Without thought, without question. And it was that what his superiors would be expecting him to do right about now in the matter of Dean.

But now.

Castiel blinked. His jaw locked. But the honest answer sprang to his lips before he could stop himself. "No."

Now he wouldn't.

Dean raised a hand to take Castiel's shoulder. The angel didn't stop him this time. But Dean's palm fell flat on Castiel's neck. He felt the searing heat firsthand as Dean's fingers splayed out. He always felt so hot, like human skin on the edge of turning red. Is that what hell fire truly felt like? The fire was there too, burning behind green eyes.

The devil's eyes were green.

"Then, why do you think I'd do that to you?" said Dean, gentle now. He didn't need to speak any louder than a whisper for Castiel to catch his words.

He was too close. Close enough to kill. To stab and destroy. Every instinct inside told Castiel to do it. The hilt of his weapon didn't touch Dean. Dean wouldn't even see Castiel reach for it. He could kill him.

And yet..

Angels of his level could never read minds. Their Will simply wasn't channeled to invade the mind of another being. It was possible for those higher in the celestial chain of command to do anything. Bend reality, change dreams and even alter time if they so chose. These were rumors of course. And Castiel had never dared to ask for the truth behind them or seen for himself. They could perhaps hear the thoughts of another easily, no matter what species. Even this demon whose mind boggled Castiel with every spoken word.

But he didn't need to say a word right now.

Because just by looking into his eyes, Castiel could see... Pain. Regret. Just as he had before when Dean admitted to being the boy that Hell had torn from Earth to serve as it's Prince.

Humanity was known for desecrating the planet in the past over petty squabbles like money and power. And yet humanity involved compassion. Love. And even an intense emotion such as hate.

He could see these emotions in Dean. A demons' emotions ranged from fury and overwhelming hunger for blood and carnage. The sins of the life in between. He had fought them for centuries, witnessed their brutal battle tactics and ferocity. The hardest aspect of fighting them was their unpredictability. He had never seen them show emotion in any form. Never love. Never hate.

This demon's eyes peered deep within Castiel, even as his soul boiled with savagery.

They told a story beyond the ravaging of a life. An innocent human soul that didn't belong in this darker part of the world. It was beyond that. It was something more that called to Castiel. The same part of Dean that made Castiel question and desire more. That mind, that smile. It all seemed like a common ruse now to fool the world and the boy whom he showed so much affection.

Dean was leaning down towards him now, descending. Castiel could see the imperfections in skin. Freckles, the humans called them. He could have counted every one of them from this closeness.

Slowly, Dean's lips met his. Castiel's resistance burnt out. He gave Dean a fight last time and pushed the demon off.

This time, he found he couldn't. It was impossible. Except that…that the pain he felt emanating from Dean reached a crescendo. He was blindsided from reality. Dean was no longer visible. Nothing was visible except an empty darkness. He must have been frozen in place. Because he couldn't feel a thing.

* * *

><p>And then a white light carefully crafted and formed each part of the zone he had entered. It was a great hall decorated with tall pillars and black marble floor, tiny flecks of gold gleamed at Castiel as he found he was able to step forward. The place seemed to empty, as did the throne itself before he watched tiny beads of light dance around and form each figure. A dead white figure with black wings covering its form was at the foot of the throne.<p>

_Lucifer._

Still the brightest, even in death.

Except he would recognize that sprawl anywhere, with black wings burned in the ground, no longer physical except as black ash. He was dead. As soon as Castiel realized the fact, the rest of the room materialized. He found himself amongst thousands of his angelic brethren. Some he recognized by name, some faces were familiar. But they all had something in common. They were all dead. He could tell by the ghostly transparency of their bodies, the slightly eerie glow that was not of Heaven kind.

They all centered around a single being. He was not transparent. Nor was he ghostly in any way. Shoulder-length dark brown hair. Young. Much too young. His black suit was disheveled and torn, soaked in blood. As he turned Castiel's way unknowingly, he caught a glimpse of his face.

Dean. This was Dean during the massacre that slaughtered his brothers during a siege into Hell. The future King.

_"___None of you will leave this place alive,___"_ The demon snarled venomously with promise. In the moment of his challenge, Dean looked back at the remains of his "Father". The old king's body remained unmoved for less than a moment before something happened and the body twitched. It was the strangest thing Castiel had ever witnessed, and he took a step away from this anomaly.

The body exploded and a cascade of fiery orange light seeped through the circle of soldiers around Dean to enter the demon himself. Castiel felt his scream of agony, and he couldn't imagine what that pain meant. Just that his senses blazed with the show of Will as it infused into his very soul, shadowing his body with darkness. Amongst thousands, Castiel watched it manifest around him, black smoke taking form and melting into black armor that covered every inch of Dean.

And his crown appeared. Made of bone and razor teeth, aligned with steel. He was the new king now...and these men stood no chance. Castiel knew that without any demonstration of power from Dean. And though these angels were long deceased, a sense of dread filled Castiel. They would all give their lives even if the battle was meant to be lost...and by every expression here, he knew that.

And so did the new King when he unleashed a mighty roar that cracked the walls, that cratered the ground and ripped through to black skies.

"_You come here...You come to my city and hope to kill me? Like little sewer rats in the night...This is _**_my _**_kingdom. And I'll see it _**_destroyed _**_before I surrender it."_

Light filled the void that Castiel saw before.

He didn't even hear them scream.

* * *

><p>And suddenly he was back in that small ramshackle shop with the real king, leashed by a human-like disguise that hid all his tragedy and cruelty.<p>

Taken back by the force of shifting "realms", Castiel broke the intimacy with Dean abruptly and stumbled backwards into one of the carousels of clothing. He was overwhelmed by cloth and denim which he rapidly peeled off himself so he could look up at Dean properly.

But Dean had barely moved, only slowly dropped his hand and watched the angel. He showed no evidence that he knew what Castiel had seen, looking only smug and triumphant as though he were a child who had just received a much-asked-for treat.

"Really bold of you," Dean said, stepping forward and clasping his hands together. "To place yourself so close to me. Almost at my mercy. We demons consume the Grace of angels, as you know."

Castiel could not respond. He was still shaken by what he had seen. So Dean continued, relentlessly, circling him and staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling.

"But I didn't consume yours. Even though I felt it in that moment. Your power...Your Will," mused Dean, then he peered down at Castiel curiously. "Did you feel mine?"

The answer was yes, but it caught in his throat. "...I felt something."

But what Dean felt in their kiss, surely was simply Castiel's base power. Why had Castiel seen the core of Dean's? Had the demon so wholly exposed himself to Castiel for no given reason? How could a demon trust so easily?

And yet he had stated it right there. He hadn't taken Castiel's life when he had the opportunity then, and he hadn't taken it now.

His brothers had come to kill Dean. That was true. Who ordered the attack, and why was something to ponder...But if Heaven's intention had been to kill Dean, they hadn't. They had instead brought the chosen heir of Lucifer on the throne. It was no fault of the demons' to merely...defend his land kingdom.

"Now, you trust me," Dean wasn't asking, but he wasn't stating either. He was merely waiting for confirmation from Castiel that it was true.

"Now...I...," Castiel began, then he cleared his throat and tried again. "Now I will _try_ to trust you."

He couldn't help the shakiness in his voice, after witnessing such a show of power, even if it came from a memory.

Dean seemed satisfied, however. "That's a start."

He appraised Castiel up and down. "I think you found your outfit."

Before Castiel could respond, Dean had already headed for the door. He looked down upon himself. A tan, brownish overcoat draped around his body and a black suit and tie cushioning his underside. He had ruined the blank, white-faced mannequin upon which it was all adorned.

He'd ask...Perhaps when they weren't hiding from Heaven and Hell. What happened down there. Or perhaps he'd never ask. And the real question was to those he served so loyally. Why had they sent a legion into Hell to kill the king? The answer would come he was sure of that.

But he still wasn't going to undress in front of him.

Pulling the garments off himself, Castiel carried them back to Dean.


	9. IX

**AN: HOLY HELL IT'S BEEN A WHILE. HI EVERYONE.**

**I'm not dead.**

**And I would never forget this story. I want everyone to know I'm writing this at my own pace but there is not a chance in Hell that I'm abandoning it. I think about it almost every day. I just have to find the will and the time to finish it. But I will. I promise. I am still actively interested.**

**That being said, this chapter is being posted right now and the other will follow shortly. I'm nearing the process of completing that as well. Also, updates should come faster now that time is more on my side.**

**Going forward, here is chapter 9.**

* * *

><p>"How does he look?" Dean had asked, ushering the angel forward before Sam and Merrick on the twin beds. It was still late, and they were in some shady motel that Dean didn't bother paying for and instead took one of the vacant rooms furthest from the check-in building.<p>

Merrick was the first to speak, looking at Castiel up and down in that tan trenchcoat and black business suit ensemble. "Like a tax accountant."

"I like it," said Sam simply.

" Like he could fit into society?" Dean prompted, squeezing Castiel's shoulders.

"You really think he doesn't stand out. Now we look like two bikers, a kid and our financial advisor," Merrick sneered. He came closer to Castiel. Though Castiel seemed to be fine with Dean getting close. There was nothing about Merrick he could say he honestly liked except his prowess in battle. When the demon came close enough to smell him, he raised a shoulder in defense. The demon was hungry. He could tell. And the Immortal Flame called to him.

"Still so scared of me, angel meat?" The demon whispered.

"Merrick," Dean snapped. Merrick immediately turned his face away in disdain and Dean ignored him, walked around Castiel to kneel in front of Sam. "Did you get to sleep very much?"

"Yes," said Sam. "Mister Merrick said he was going to guard me."

"And he did a very good job of it. You're in good shape. You're perfectly fine. Even though Merrick is starving. Come, guardian. We're almost there. Carry the kid." Dean barked at Merrick.

"No...No...I don't really need-" Sam sputtered as the other demon approached.

"Sammy, you're part of a royal entourage. I wouldn't have you riding shotgun. No being part of my royal entourage gets treated second-rate," and yet for some reason, Dean's eyes trained on Castiel as he said it, who returned his gaze evenly.

" A royal entourage?" Sam asked just as Merrick sighed out "Are you joking, sire?"

"Yes," Dean answered them both. "Is there a problem, Merrick? Carry him. We'll make it past the mountain faster if we're not a giant party."

"Mountains?" Castiel inquired.

"Mountain," Dean corrected himself, gesturing them all to the door. "Just one. Pretty small in comparison to...You know what? Trust my judgment. It's small."

And so with that, they took off.

Merrick was carrying Sam piggy back with the latter sleeping on his back. The journey had tired him after all. He wore a strained face as he carried Sam. Grudgingly. Castiel couldn't keep the smugness off his face. Maybe Dean did that just to get under Merrick's skin.

"Keep laughing, angel meat...and I'll tell you a piece of my mind," said Merrick. They were lagging sorely behind. Civilization was far behind them now, and it was just fields of tall grass. Dean was ahead, leading the way, not bothering to wait for any of them to catch up. Castiel would have just stuck at the front with him, but Dean didn't seem in the mood for conversation.

"Do tell me a piece of your mind. I promise I'll try to act interested," Castiel shot back coolly.

Merrick snorted. It took him a minute to come up with a reply, and it felt like he was really weighing his words. "You know you're just a pet to him."

"Is that right?" Castiel asked, keeping his premise of _acting_.

"It's true," said Merrick. "You're a pet. You're a slave. Something pretty. Something shiny. That's all you are to the King."

Slave. That title made him hiss. "Slave? If I was enslaved. I wouldn't be able to leave."

"It's a game, celestial," Merrick sneered. "It's all a game to him. He's notorious for this. Do you have any idea how many he's fucked and left? You're just a shiny new angel toy...and you buying into his bullshit is all the more entertaining to him."

Castiel couldn't find a response to that. Some that popped in his head were less than courteous but he bit his tongue. Maybe it was because he had felt something similar about his presence here not too long ago.

"Tell me I'm wrong," said Merrick. Some emotion must have caught on Castiel's face, because he wore a nasty smile now. "Tell me I'm wrong and I'll take it back. You can't, right? I've cared for the Prince since he was a kid. No one knows him better than me."

"Just keep walking," Castiel ordered irritably. He was through talking to this idiot for the day. He moved to walk with Dean. Silence was much better than this conversation. But he couldn't help feeling that twinge of anger for the rest of the way.

Within a blink, It was nighttime when the party hit a wooded area shrouding an enormous mountain. Dean had finally stopped.

Perhaps it was the area itself. The air seemed to thicken with tension unresolved and black clouds began to shroud around the tall, jagged peaks. Cursed. Something was off about this place. How could it possible that a town rested on the other side? The town they left was so far behind them, that it could hardly be called close to this mountain. And from there, no one would have spotted this for miles, even if they all did have enhanced sights.

The moon was the only source of light, hanging high above them, occasionally peeking through the stormy clouds, hardly illuminating the way. Merrick, who had kept at Dean and Castiel's heels so as to stop any sort of private conversation nearly bumped into Dean when the two of them stopped to examine the mountain as a whole.

"You said it was small," said Castiel flatly.

"Did I?"

" This is hardly small," Merrick spoke through his teeth. He adjusted Sam more firmly on his back. "Have you been leading us in a circle? Do you even know what's on the other side of this hunk of rock?"

"Shut up, Merrick," Dean snapped. He stepped forward, turned and faced them all with arms wide open. "Welcome, children. To Paradise Rock."

"This is where your king fell?" Castiel eyed the surroundings. "Aptly desolate, isn't it?"

Dean ignored him. "Remember to watch your step, scrub your eyeballs clean of anything unsightly... and..." He paused, pressing a finger under his eye, close to the protruding bone of his nose. "...Keep a weather eye out for a horizon."

In one quick movement, Dean knelt down, the air shrouding him vibrated with heat and power. It wasn't the first time such power was witnessed. Dean had used this power before on Meg. Or at least, just a part of it.

He gave a devilish smile... And he took off, high into the air until he became a black speck, higher than the peak of the mountain before he vanished altogether.

There was a moment of silence...and then..

"Are you serious right now?!" Merrick roared, clenching his fist.

"Did he just fly over the mountain?" Castiel placed a hand over his eyes, shielding himself from the moonlight and squinting at the clouds to make him see better.

"We don't fly, angel. We Jump. Only the King can utilize a form of movement through smoke that allows him to transport to another location. As long as he knows where he's going...However...He doesn't...so yes, he jumped over the entire valley."

"You don't fly? Demons have wings," Castiel pointed out, distracted.

"No, we jump," repeated Merrick irritably. "And he jumped."

"Why don't you jump?"

Merrick growled. "I don't have the damned energy to make flight, angel. Nor do I have the stamina. If you want to follow the King, why don't _you_ just fly?"

"Our destination is over the valley, is it not? Perhaps I shall. Give me the child,"

"Like Hell. You're going to kill him. And I wouldn't give you such satisfaction." Merrick spat.

Castiel threw him a disdainful look. "Why would I hurt the child? My mission is to protect him."

"Your mission is to take him to Heaven. Don't think I don't know what's going on," Merrick raised an accusing finger. "You may have the King fooled with your beady blue eyes and your bullshit soldier act. But not me. I know all about angels. And I know all about what they're capable of. One minute, they're saying they'll throw you a bone, and the next, they're throwing out hell of a lot more than you think. Out of the sky. In fact, they're throwin' out a THIRD of their bones."

Castiel turned to face him fully. "Is that a reference to-"

"YES! Score one for the angel for actually getting it," Merrick snapped.

"That's a terrible allusion," Castiel commented. He stepped forward, hands up. "Give me the child and I will take him to your king. We can cover ground and wait for you at the peak, if that's where he went."

"He didn't go to the peak, you moron. Paradise Rock is more than just a mountain. The stories surrounding this place would shake you to your bones. No one's made it through the mountain alive. Everyone drives around it. That's how cursed it is. Even the humans think twice before going through that." For emphasis, Merrick pointed at the swirling storm clouds above.

Before Castiel could answer, there was a murmuring sound from Merrick's back as Sam raised his eyes, batted sleepy eyes at the pair of them.

"Is everything okay?" He asked groggily, raising a fist to rub one eye and looking between them. "Where's Dean?"

"His highness went up the mountain top. And while we deliberate it-"

Before he could even finish the sentence, Merrick felt a brief pressure applied to his chest before he flew backwards through the air, hitting a tree smack in the middle, quaking the ground from the impact. It took a few seconds for the pain to actually register, and for him to realize that Castiel had utilized a wind element through Will to strike him in the torso. He slid down the tree and landed on his front.

When his eyes stopped watering and playing double-triple, he sliced his eyes into Castiel's, who stood unperturbed, holding Sam within his arms as though the boy had been there the whole time.

"You son of a-"

"I don't have time for this," said Castiel impatiently, breaking two enormous white wings out from the confines of his clothing. Merrick was blinded by the sight and he shielded his eyes from it as those wings wrapped around Sam. Merrick didn't have much time to think, or to act, still dizzy from the unexpected attack.

"Like Hell!" And he threw himself to his feet with a scream of protest in his muscles. He flung himself towards Castiel, caught his ankle just as the angel took off.

Distracted, Castiel threw Merrick a filthy look. "Let go! You're slowing down my flight!"

" I could give a damn! You let go first!" Merrick shouted back, clamping his grip down tighter.

Before Castiel could even make another snap remark in rage, his flight was suddenly halted. He froze in mid-air, feeling a slight tingling sensation start at the very ends of his toes and work it's way up. He chanced a glance ahead of him, caught sight of...towers? Then he hit something. It couldn't be physical, it was impossible. But he hit what felt like a massive rubber wall and bounded back in pain.

Just then, the tingling sensation spread like lightning to his wings. It rushed past his defenses, drained his Will down to what felt like zero, and all the protection that came with Will died. He lost a hold of Sam and all of his fear transferred to the boy's safety, rather than his own.

And Castiel was falling, watching the ground come to him at a phenomenal rate with no way to regain balance and absorb the fall.

There was a resounding crunch. Castiel knew his neck had broken. And any normal human would be dead or paralyzed in his shoes. Beside him was another loud thud, and he knew Merrick had met his own fate from the fall. Before Castiel could attempt movement, he felt a weight on his back and flattened once more.

"That's one way to catch up to me," said a voice from above. Entirely too relaxed for the moment. The demon and the angel looked up at the same time to find Dean sitting there at the end of a gargoyle statue with what little space he had. His knee was raised and he had circled an arm around it, smoking a cigarette to it's end.

"...Ungh...Have...Have...you...Have you been here the whole time?" Merrick grunted, struggling to sit up.

Dean scratched the back of his head with a free hand. "Hmm...Maybe. You all right, kiddo? How's the angel's back? Cushiony and soft?"

"Dean!" Sam jumped off Castiel who gave a muffled sound of pain as turned over. "Where did you go?"

"Perimeter check," Dean flicked away the cigarette to the side and it was then that Merrick, Castiel and Sam realized just how small the ground they were standing on was. Just across from them was a very long, narrow wooden bridge leading up to a castle. Below the bridge were several sharp spikes protruding from the dirt.

Castiel squinted from his place on the ground. Skeletons on the spikes. Skeletons in what was distinguishably tattered white and gray clothing.

" What is this place?"

"The Temple of Light. Or what's left of it," said Dean. "Believe me, I'm surprised too. I was expecting a welcoming committee when I took the Jump. But... I get an infestation of freaks breaching the temple instead...Heh. It looks like there's an Anti-Magic Barrier up."

"Is that what we fucking hit?!" Merrick jumped to his feet, snapping his neck to one side with a loud crick. "Jesus, man. It felt like we hit a lightning bolt. And I'm not saying that because of Sparkles over there."

"Angelic Flight is a very heavy use of Will," Dean remarked plainly.

"We cannot utilize Will here?" Castiel asked, shocked. So far as he knew, Will could be used anywhere on this planet.

"Not properly. Someone placed an Anti-Magic barrier, and I wager it was...recent. Hmmm...Looks like someone else beat us to the punch here," A sheepish smile curled Dean's lip. "And the Anema* demon settlement here don't seem to mind one bit for the barrier...No, actually they seem rather amused by it."

"Anema demons...Did he say...? Did you say...? Are you serious...? God damn it," Merrick slapped his forehead and put a hand on his hip with the appearance of a man in deep reluctance. "Come on now, are you serious? Your Majesty, just disable the field, will you?"

Dean held up his hands. "They won't allow it."

" 'They'? Who's this 'they' you keep speaking of?" Castiel looked from Merrick to Dean. "What are 'Anema Demons'? Another branch of your kind?"

"You'd be shocked at how many different shapes and sizes we come in, Sparkles," said Merrick.

"Anema Demons are small in size. Their power isn't a Will power that we use or...can use, I should say. It's a mind control variant. Their power comes from thoughts, from images and memories that they can pick up on. And since we're the first travelers coming through in what has to be decades...they're anxious to meet us," said Dean grimly. And for once, he seemed to be completely serious. Almost disgusted if Castiel had to name the second emotion.

"And here I was thinking that all demons fell in line behind you," Castiel crossed his arms with a frown. " You cannot simply will them away? Time is short."

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, not every demon in the world falls in line behind me. Though that would be fortunate, wouldn't it? No, Anema aren't fond of our kind. It's a long history and like you said: Time is short. Let's press on and get this over with."

"Um, Dean?" Sam peered over the edge of the bridge, gulping at the sight of what looked like unsteady wooden planks paving the path. "Is this stable?"

"Suuure," said Dean.

Castiel frowned at that devious tone. As usual.

Castiel had had enough. He stuck out his hand and mustering up all the concentration he could, tried to stabilize the bridge with an ice element. All that happened was that the wind shook and a flicker of what looked like several snowflakes seemed to shimmer in the air before dispersing.

"Didn't you just hear him?" Merrick snapped.

" I did. I just wanted to see for myself," Castiel replied defensively. And he met Dean's gaze evenly. There was something unreadable in that smile and that sway as Dean swept past him to the head of the group.

"And nooooow...It's a race. Meet you guys at the finish line!" He broke into a sprint, waving one hand high above. "I got a headstart! Come on, you dead-weights, double time!"

"Gah...Not this time!" said Merrick, darting after him.

"Come on, Cas!" Sam urged with a yank of Castiel's trenchcoat.

"These games are childish," Castiel grumbled. Sam ran surprisingly fast for a young boy. And it seemed the bridge was stable enough to accommodate the other two.

Castiel stepped forward, lightly, testing, then another, and then one more. Stable. Seemed that way. He continued onward as he would a normal surface until he quickened his pace.

Not for the benefit of the childish demon. He was in no hurry to catch up to him and finish this stupid race. But to get this on and over with.

He didn't quite like the idea of being unable to use his powers.

Once on the other side, he tried once again to utilize the ice elemental and this time only a flicker of white danced around his finger tips. Was it possible the place was draining him ever so slowly of his Will? If that was the case, he wagered a similar effect was occurring with the demons.

Merrick would not last long, if that were the case.

The stone steps were long and the doors were closed. He could detect not a single sign of Dean, nor Merrick, nor worse yet: the boy. The doors felt heavy when he pushed them open and a faint layer of mist began to seep around his ankles, leaving them chilled to the bone.

And yet inside, he didn't find what he was expecting. Perhaps because this used to be a Temple of Light. He was expecting more substance. But there was no bodies. No sign of blood or even the smell of death like he could practically feel in the S Prefecture. In fact, the fragrance in the air was curious.

Like this castle had been used before and much more recently. Truly, it couldn't be that it was inhabited by demons. The stairs lead up one way, with a row of dusty, webbed doors on the first floor behind this set of stairs. But the stairs themselves lead to another pair of double doors which remained firmly closed with an invisible unwelcome feel to it.

Dean was right about one thing, however. Someone else was here. He could feel the eyes on him from every direction, could feel the icy chill run up his back and make him shudder.

He didn't like it. No enemy of his was going to remain hidden in shadow for long. He drew out his sword, just testing. The slide from his sheath made a noise loud enough that he could feel the air begin to quiet.

Dead silence. You could hear a pin drop from fifty feet away.

Then a distinct sound began to play. Subtle but slowly growing in volume. Buzzing. Like a thousand bees decided to make a hive at once. Curious. If Castiel was nothing less than what he was, he might have felt fear. But the buzzing just amplified in strength and he saw with his own two eyes a swarm of black coming down the stairs towards him.

It immediately circled him, encapsulated him as though he was honey for the bees. Even though he felt trapped, he could almost detect the weak Will Magic within this non corporeal being. It could hardly do any real damage, aside from the warm, almost invisible lashes he felt to skin.

These must have caused paralysis to normal humans. And yet he could feel only minor effects of that. The sides of his vision began to blur and shake. A steady tingling sensation began in his toes.

Castiel let them be. For now.

He could feel the heat. These must have been the Anema demons.

From what seemed to be the lowest depths of the temple grounds, a deep voice gave notice of Castiel and spoke as though his voice were everywhere, all at once. Through the walls, from the floors. There was no possible way that this demons' voice could have been pinpointed.

"Are you in league with the demon king?"

Castiel became alert at once, head peering over the circling swarm of black. " I am not. I am of my own kind."

"You are of Heaven-Kind."

"And you are an Anema,"

"I am the Leader of what you people call "Anema". We have been cloaked here in century. A dying breed of what your kind calls...demon. We are the last of our kind."

Castiel crossed his arms and the black mist only circled the added space. Never touching. Not really. Only procuring more heat waves.

"What spell have you utilized to hold me here?"

"They are Wisps*. The children of the Anema are not physical as I have become with age. The power the children wield is far beyond your own. Surrender yourself, Heaven-Kind and hear me."

"Hear you?" Castiel repeated. "Is that your attempts at confrontation? Cowardly demon. Show your face if your power is so far beyond mine."

"For the moment, you are alive. You exist because I will it. You will end when I demand it."

That was a bold threat.

"And you think an Anti-Magic Barrier is something that scares me, demon? I can fight without the use of Will."

"You will hear me." His tone brokered no arguments. Castiel felt this demon's wisps began to tighten almost like a hundred snakes had coiled around his arms and torso at once, squeezing him in a bear hug. Suffocating. Tighter. Tighter. Tighter.

Castiel snarled in response, shrugging his shoulders to loosen the hold, but the wisps only coiled further. For a moment he thought the wisps were growing more physical, drawing blood...but it wasn't blood they were drawing out. It would take more to do that. No, they were draining his Will.

"I...comply," Castiel growled.

"Excellent. We have a proposition for you, Heaven-Kind. You have brought with you, the demon-king of destruction. This, we cannot allow in this realm."

Through his teeth, Castiel spoke. "The demon-king? You mean Dean."

"What you call him is irrelevant. He has no name. He has no identity. He is an abomination. A shadow, passing between realms. He must be destroyed. You must destroy him."

"If he's your king, why do you fear him?"

Almost monotone, the voice responded. "We do not fear him and he is no King. He is a boy with a crown, seeking amusement. To wipe out our kind would be a victory to him. If you were to dispatch of him, we would grant you freedom of passage to your destination. "

For a minute, Castiel thought he hadn't heard him right. Was he asking him to kill Dean? Now, that was a first. Actually, no. These were demons he was dealing with. They were pretty quick to kill one another, it seemed.

"You don't fear him, yet you want me to kill him. Why can't you do it?" Not that he was complaining. Dean could be infuriating sometimes. But an underling calling their king a child was something else.

"You are Heaven Kind. You would be better suited to destroy the devil than I,"

At this, Castiel laughed without humor."You slaughter every single patron here. Every single one.. You infest this place with your...presence...and for what? I think I'll reject this offer. I can take down an anti-magic barrier myself if I need to. Unfortunately for you, I know how to do that without striking a deal with a demon."

The anema wisps revolved faster around Castiel now as though in real threat. He could feel the heat waves cut into skin now. Not painful, but quite enough to irritate him.

For the first time, he heard emotion in the Anema Demons' voice. Anger. "You fumble about in ignorance, Heaven-Kind. And you will regret your decision when you fail to depart from this place."

He could feel a smile creeping up and he didn't know what made him say it. "I'll take my chances."

That must have been Dean's influence.

He started to turn towards a flight of stairs. Choosing the East Side wing rather than stand here talking to the demon all day. He felt the Anema wisps begin to swirl as he turned until he could feel the heat no more. Once he was face to face with the wood of the door, waiting to turn the knob, he heard the Anema speak once more.

"Embrace eternal death, angel." And this time his voice was steady fading into the background noise. Castiel whipped around as though braced for a fight, one hand flying to the hilt of his sword. But nothing came but empty darkness. Certainly the lack of light was one thing, and now the whole place was shrouded in that endless black.

He opened the double doors at the top of the stairs to find himself faced with a dimly lit corridor. Behind him the door began to close without prompting from him, sealing itself with a loud echoing thud that clearly told him the way out was sealed off. Without his power and strength to utilize, he was stuck with the path that lay before him.

"Dean?" He called. Perhaps the demon would respond if he called him by name and not species this time.

But there was no answer. No one around to hear him. What of the other one? He stepped further. "Merrick? Sam?"

No answer.

Indeed, they must have been facing similar situations to the one he was faced with.

He still had his sword. Will wasn't everything. That was something to repeat to yourself in a situation like this. Will wasn't everything. He still had a true weapon. A physical one that went beyond magic.

He drew out the sword and took a look at it. Why did it feel so heavy in his hand? The longer he stared at it, the more Castiel noticed. There was a fine vein running up the back of his hand. Throbbing almost. The longer he looked, the darker the vein seemed to become. Far darker than a normal vein.

"Staring at your sword won't make fencing easier,"

Castiel started. He almost dropped his weapon for the sudden jolt that voice gave him. It couldn't be...Uriel?

Angels by nature projected a light that even the darkness could not penetrate. And it was this light that he saw for coming off waves from Uriel. An angel. Here of all places. His comrade bore no sign of previous injury. In fact, he looked perfectly fine.

"Uriel!" Castiel almost bounded forward, but he settled with a few closer steps, blinking a few times to make sure his eyes weren't fooling him. "What are you doing here of all places?"

"Of all places is right...," The other angel commented, making a face that resembled someone who had just smelled something putrid. "...But no...I was told to accompany you on your mission. It took me quite a while to find you, Castiel. But why are you in this castle? I never thought to find you in a demon playground."

"Sent to accompany me?" Castiel shook his head. "I'm here because the demon and the boy are here."

"The demon and the boy," Uriel repeated. "You mean the boy that nearly wiped out that Prefecture, right? Yes, the General mentioned something about you bringing him back alive. Are you chasing them, Castiel? Look how you're dressed. I would have mistaken you from a wandering human if I didn't recognize your face."

He seemed amused. Like he was laughing at him. Castiel felt a pang of shame. "No…I'm…It's complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Uriel asked.

"Listen, we don't have time for this," said Castiel impatiently. "We have to get out of here. I had the unfortunate task of coming in this manor and now there are Anema everywhere. Are you familiar with the Anema, Uriel?"

Uriel balanced himself awkwardly for a moment, going from one foot to another, speculating. He eyed Castiel with a frown and finally stood still, taking a deep sigh.

"I'm not...All right, let's go. So we're following a demon and a boy, right?" Uriel's frown deepened. "The same demon who tried to kill me?"

Castiel redirected him along the pathway. The dimly lit hallway didn't look so foreboding with company involved. And finally, it seemed he had an ally. Perhaps this mission would actually succeed now.

"The same," said Castiel.

"And you're chasing them?" Uriel laughed. "To here? This is a death trap, Castiel. He's lured you in here to kill you by these "Anema".

"So it would seem," Castiel grunted. "Come, then. I have a feeling I was left behind. Perhaps they've already journeyed out of here. I know I've been here long enough to last me a lifetime."

"As have I," said Uriel, matching Castiel's stride. "I followed you inside. I saw you take quite a fall. There must be a magic barrier up."

Castiel gave him a cold look as they stopped short of a door at the end of the hallway. "Of course there is. Can't you sense it? These Anema are disrupting the forces of nature. We cannot utilize Will here. And I wager that comes with the price of killing all of them."

"The price? No, we're killing all of them," Uriel assured him.

" I already happened to meet with the leader. Unfortunate for me...He was not in the mood for conversation," said Castiel.

"You met with the leader?" Uriel was amazed. "And survived? I don't know, Castiel. Have you ever heard of the Anema?"

"Enough that I don't like them," said Castiel. "Do you know the way out, Uriel? The back way?"

"Of course. That's how I came in," said Uriel. He opened the door and made a gesture of letting Castiel out first.

What went on behind him seemed to become a vivid dream as Castiel was blinded by the sun. He shielded his face with his hand, surprised to find the sun so soon. Immediately, Castiel felt his Grace return full force and his power return. Will was no longer blocked off from him. It was an exhilarating feeling to reignite the Immortal Flame.

"One long hallway and the back door's right there? This seemed too easy. Where is the demon and the boy, then?"

"You'd be surprised at how uncreative demons are," Uriel commented. "As for the other two? I don't know. But I did find something out on my way here, Castiel. You'll definitely find this interesting. This demon you speak of….The Anema leader? I don't think he's in this manor. I think he's…Hmm…It's actually better if I show you."

The rocky formation was hardly accommodating and Castiel was losing patience. He checked behind him to the back of the manor and shielded his eyes again. "…Spare me the time, Uriel. What do you know?"

"You'll see. Just follow me. And Castiel. Keep your weapon ready. This isn't going to be pretty. But I think your demon friend and the boy are where we're going."

"You think?" Castiel repeated, but despite himself, he began to turn away from the manor. The longer he looked at it, the more nauseated he felt. "I need you to know."

"I'm positive," said Uriel. "Mostly positive."

The outside was a cluster of ruins. This castle seemed to have been hit by a meteor. But ahead of him he could see nothing but more mountain formation and hardly any paths leading out. Paths that just seemed to lead to more mountains. But the horizon was clear and that was a start.

So Dean was lying. There should have been a city on the other side, shouldn't there have been? Isn't that where they were going? Wasn't Rose Manor in a city? Didn't the demon mention that?

Demons lie…Demons always lie. He could feel heat reach his cheeks in anger. Why didn't he know better than to trust a demon with it's own agenda? Every demon was a liar. This one was trying to kill him with swarms of anema wisps.

What a farce. He hoped they hadn't gone too far now.

Uriel was leading him down a steady path. Though he could feel rocks begin to touch where his boots were. Human clothes were so constricting. These shoes were not made for the terrain. Yet Dean had picked them out. He wondered if Dean had purposely given him these shoes to make him susceptible to the environment. To slow him down so he wouldn't catch up.

And he wanted Castiel to trust him…

Like he would ever make that mistake again. Luckily, Uriel was with him now. And he had an ally with him when he would capture the demon. He could hardly consider Merrick a candidate for making the numbers even this time. The weakened demon. Dean was one demon now and he was sure that they could take him.

But the boy might have expressed reluctance. Oh well, when he got there, he would try to persuade him. Persuasion wasn't a problem. He had put the boy in a trance before. He was susceptible to tricks of the mind, regardless of how powerful he seemed to be.

"You seem lost in your mind, Castiel, are you well?" Uriel's voice broke his train of thought.

"I'm well. Only speculating what we're going to do when we catch up to the demon,"

"Kill him," said Uriel. "Right after we kill the Anema….And here we are."

He stopped in front of a mountain. Castiel stared at him. "This is a dead end."

"Look lower, brother," said Uriel.

Clearly at their level there was a cave, profuse amounts of smoke was issuing from the mouth. He could not even see past the abyss of black and smoke. The air suddenly went hot. Like they had stepped into the blazing sunlight.

"A cave. I thought I was done with dark, narrow passageways for the day," Castiel snapped. "Is there where the demon went?"

"It's where everyone went. The Anema are in there, Castiel. Not the manor. They must be projecting their power inside to lure travelers. I believe this is the source of their power. I believe this is their true location."

"This cave?" Castiel came forward and touched a rock. His palm singed and he could almost feel the flesh begin to peel. "Smart. I underestimated the Anema."

"Well, no sense in standing here. I think that leader you spoke with is waiting for you. Knowing you, brother...I wager you've upset him,"

"Hmm," Castiel sheathed his sword. "I will go in first. I'll let you know if it's safe to come in. Keep guard of the entrance. If you run into trouble, call my name and I shall return."

"Haha!" Uriel laughed. " as if I could not handle a few curious passerby. Go on, Castiel. I will take guard here."

"Very well," said Castiel. "Stay right there."

The darkness overwhelmed him immediately. He was left blind in the dark. But he could utilize Will here and that was what mattered. Holding up an open palm, a slow revolving ball of lightning began to appear, illuminating his path. The downside was, he could only illuminate a few feet in front of him. It was that dark.

And the smell….The smell was so acrid. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. What went on here? Who died? How many bodies were stashed at the end of this cave?

"Uriel?" Castiel called behind him, catching a glimpse of that figure, now a dot in the distance, shrouded by daylight. He almost envied him that. But the figure remained unmoving.

"Uriel!" Castiel called out again. "It's safe for you to come back now! Come on, let's get this over with."

But Uriel wasn't moving.

He started heading back.

And that might have been a mistake.

Once Castiel was close enough. He figured well enough why his comrade wasn't moving. Why he seemed to hover almost a foot off the ground. Why his eyes seemed dull cast as though he was a lifeless corpse. Because he was one. Sharp blue eyes met the green and he stayed still long enough in horror to watch Dean slice through Uriel's chest cavity in a splatter of blood and leave him to drop at his feet.

"DEAN!" Castiel screamed in that moment, urging himself to rush forward, breaking out his wings and preparing to take flight to increase momentum. His clothes began to vanish. Those restricting clothes began to morph into the armor that he was created in.

His sword drawn, he prepped himself for the attack, but the demon was ready for him., holding up a mere hand to parry off his attack with an elemental. Fire seared through the exposed skin of his arms and legs, but he didn't relent, slashing through the air and watching the demon jump back just barely in time.

"How…dare you,"

"My, he's quite a resisting one, isn't he?" The words confused Castiel but he didn't have time for games. And this demon was all about these games. Cruel as they were.

"Enough," Castiel snarled, landing neatly on his feet, directing the point of his sword in Dean's direction.

"No, you're doing enough. Stop," said Dean. "Wake up and smell the sunshine, sunshine."

"What are you talking about? Why did you kill him?" Why was he reasoning with him?

Dean didn't answer immediately (Of course not). Instead he looked around as though he was a stranger surveying a scenic surrounding. "This whole thing is his creation, isn't it? He's very thorough. He must like you."

Again, confusion. Castiel reiterated again, this time much more aggressively. "What. Are. You. Talking. About?"

As if noticing Castiel for the first time, Dean drew closer to him. Castiel leaned back at his proximity, ready to stab if necessary.

"Open your eyes, angel. Don't make this hard on me."

"Make what hard on you?"

Dean sighed, long and hard. "I have to, don't I? It's unfortunate."

"Have to wha—"

But whatever Dean had to do, he never heard. Instead he felt a sharp prick in his abdomen before the world of pain came. Hot and wet, blood poured out of his stomach and into Dean. Despite himself, he fell into the demon and leaned against his shoulder. Lifeblood rushing out of him. Will being drained…

It was going to be over soon…And he had failed his mission…

What a waste.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Anema: <strong>**Demons of the deep. Anema once had a contract with Lucifer to live peacably among the Knight-class demons such as Merrick. However, once Dean took the throne, he exiled the Anema personally from Hell and eradicated almost all of the Anema. Anema usually have a wisp form. Their power is to drain the Will and magic of those strong in it to fuel their own power. Anema stay in "cell" form which is the wisp form for most of their life. And they usually centralize around a leader strong in Will. There are few Anema in existence. The name Anema came from the demon who created them. It's said he was one of the Fallen Angels who followed Lucifer from the fall of Paradise.

****Wisps: ****Wisps are the "cell" or baby form of Anema. Wisps can warp the mind of the one they entrap and delve into their darkest secrets to take shape of their weak points. Wisps commonly implement fake visions before their victims are completely drained of their Will and energy and succumb to death.


	10. X

Castiel drew a sharp breath. White light? No, it was totally dark. His arms were hurting. Why were they hurting? Feeling returned to every inch of his body and he realized what had happened. He was tied up by his wrists to the ceiling in a dark cell with white tiles stained with various blood splatter. Back in his clothes. No armor…His clothes felt wet like he had been drenched in water. Dry in certain places to where it scratched. Blood.

But that didn't disturb him. His central focus was on Dean right below him. Though he was tied a foot off the ground, they were level. The demon was closer than he was before, and his face was just inches away, his hands on Casitel's cheeks.

"What…What happened? Where am I? Where is this?" Castiel breathed, struggling to move, but the shackles were too tight. Iron and cold cutting into his skin.

"This is the Temple of Light," said Dean. "Calm down or you'll overstrain yourself. You've lost quite a lot of energy."

"No…No…You killed Uriel. We left the Temple of Light. We were in a cave…You…You were there, you killed Uriel," Castiel struggled further and faintly kept repeating the same thing.

"Is that what you saw me do?" Dean's voice was low and quiet.

"What do you mean 'Is that what I saw you do?' You were there. You did it."

"You were captured, Castiel. The Anema have been holding you in this room for a few hours. I've been looking for you for ages," said Dean. His voice was so calming, it was strange….

"No…No I spoke to the Anema,"

"Yes and I heard that. As soon as I did, I doubled back for you. And I've found you here. We're in an underground cellar in the Temple of Light. Take a look around you."

But he didn't want to. How many people had died in here?

"This is a trick isn't it?" Castiel asked, not convinced. "Let me down. Let me down right now, Demon, so I can deliver your just reward for killing my comrade."

"I didn't kill your damned comrade. Uriel, was it? With a name like that, I should have. But I didn't, all right? They put you down here to drain your Will power to fuel the barrier."

"What…Why?"

"Because Anema are disgusting demons. And if a demon says that about another demon, you know he's telling you the truth," Dean grimaced. "Now I'm going to try to get you down. Try not to make any sudden movements and do not attack me. I've been feeling ill since I got in this room and the smell isn't exactly appetizing."

Castiel stayed still. As best as he could. But it hurt as Dean drew close and with a quick wrench, broke his chains. The cuffs were still wrapped around his wrists but he was free. He felt his legs give way and he fell into the demon. Just like in the dream…Just like when he was killed.

"Where are Merrick and Sam?" Castiel murmured into his shoulder.

"I don't know," said Dean. "I honestly don't know."

"You don't know…," said Castiel. It hurt to chuckle, but he made an attempt anyway, even though his throat felt like it had been plied open. "You swore a life debt to him and you lose him within a few days? How interesting your methods are, demon."

"And you are just nothing without your charm, aren't you, angel?" Dean replied, hoisting Castiel away from the wall and pulling him closer so that he was holding him in a hard embrace. There was a moment where the two of them just stared at eachother.

Castiel's hands rested on Dean's shoulders. Dean's face began to swim in and out of focus.

"Are you okay to walk or do I need to come back for you?" Dean asked, rubbing his back in a comforting way.

"No…Why would you leave me behind? Isn't that what started this whole thing?"

"Then you want to come with me?"

"Are you finding the way out?" So sleepy. He could feel the thrum of Dean's heart when he answered even though his hands weren't close to his chest, he could feel the vibration from it. His heart must have been beating ten times as fast as a human's. If he _was_ human, Castiel might have been concerned for his health.

"I'm finding my henchman and my boy, that's what I'm doing. I can come back for you after I've killed Anema,"

The way he said Anema didn't sound like he was talking about a race of demons. It sounded like he was talking about one single person.

"You're not leaving me behind," and with vehemence, Castiel squeezed Dean's shoulders in response. "I don't care….I….I don't care how weak I feel right now. You're not leaving me-"

"Okay, angel. Take it easy," said Dean, starting to lower him but again Castiel squeezed his shoulders as hard as he could. "And now you're about to break my bones with that grip."

"I'm sorry," Castiel relinquished his hold just a bit. He didn't really care how irrational he was being, how "clingy". He had to hold onto him because touching him, feeling his heat through layers of clothing was all that he could hold on to when his eyes were betraying him. It was the only proof that he was real.

"We'll take you along, okay? We're going to kill an Anema," He pulled Castiel with him so that the angel was hanging awkwardly off Dean's front, one arm wrapped around his neck in a tight grip and his other hand loose while Dean gripped around his waist and hoisted him a little off the ground so he didn't have to walk.

Castiel couldn't even find the energy to draw out his sword. If he wanted to protest, the will to do it didn't even come. His eyes kept drooping, but despite all that, he fought for consciousness. He was not about to fall asleep. Who's to say he wouldn't succumb to another fake vision the Anema put on him? He couldn't hear the wisps, but that didn't mean anything.

From what he can see, Dean was leading him to the door. But not before Castiel got a better look at the bloodied corpses. Rotting flesh with skeleton showing...but behind them...Wings.

He wasn't the first angel trapped in this room. Chains similar to the ones binding him to the ceiling were hanging everywhere.

Castiel could have vomited. But he found he didn't have the energy for even that.

"He drained me dry…," Castiel muttered to himself.

"Almost," corrected Dean. "Any more and you would have been dead and we would have had to resort to emergency protocols."

"Emergency protocols," Perhaps Castiel intended for it to sound like a question but it sounded more like a statement.

"Grace infusion*," said Dean simply.

There was a pause. "You're not serious?"

"Grace infusion, angel. You have a better alternative? We can do it right now. I have much more power than you right now," said Dean, coming to a stop to lean Castiel against the doorway so that they were facing eachother without Dean supporting him. "Or do you just not like the idea at all?"

"You want us to fuse our power together? I refuse. I_ refuse_ to taint my power with an infusion through _you_."

"Please say it more adamantly. I'm not catching your intended emphasis," said Dean sardonically. "Fine."

He almost seemed hurt by the notion, in the way he grabbed Castiel much more aggressively then before to manhandle him back to be on Dean's support. Castiel tried to focus instead on other things through the weakness. The hallway itself. Was this real? Was this another dream? What if he was still in that room?

"How do I know this isn't another dream?" Castiel sighed.

In reply, Dean reached around with a free hand to pinch the skin of Castiel's arm. The angel winced in response.

"What did you do that for?"

"It's a human trick. A good way of knowing whether you're still dreaming or not, you know what I mean?"

"It's foolish," Castiel murmured, starting to rest his cheek against Dean's shoulder. It was mostly Dean's support that helped him maneuver. His feet could have been dragging for all the good they were doing. But the demon didn't seem to have any qualms about carrying him. Dean felt so warm and nice here.

"Am I slowing you…down…?" Castiel asked into Dean's jacket.

"Please," was all Dean said.

It was a long walk. And for most of it, was going down. He wondered where the Anema had initially placed him. If it was downstairs or underground. If it was basement level. How many levels was this castle exactly? Who knew? Or who cared? Dean was going down…He walked slower.

Despite wanting nothing more than to sleep, Castiel raised his head with some effort.

"Do you think we'll find them…Sam and Merrick, I mean?"

"I don't know," said Dean.

"Do you think they were killed?" As if that question wasn't already on their minds. At this range, he could read every emotion that passed Dean's face.

"I would feel if either of them were killed," Dean replied, adjusting Castiel with a grunt so that he was a bit elevated.

"You would feel it," Castiel repeated.

"I'm bound to Sam through the Life Debt. And Merrick is bound to me through the oath of fealty he swore when I took the throne. He must obey my command at every given moment. But in the event that I am not there, he's able to reserve judgment for whatever situation suits it."

"You think he would leave us behind, then?" Funny how Castiel had thought Dean doing the same thing earlier in the dream. But he hadn't…He had come back for him.

"I think he would make the best call in a situation where we're separated," Dean started going down some steps. He could tell by being lowered with each step, but his eyes were still focused on Dean's face.

"If he's bound to you by an oath of loyalty, it seems fragile at best if he's without you, he can make up his own mind,"

Dean stopped midstep. "He's not bound against his will, angel. He willingly made his oath to me. His oath was to stay by my side at the cost of his own life. He chose this path and I commend him for it. If he made the decision to abandon me while I was not there to save Sam, then I'm all for it."

"But you have a life debt to Sam. You're obligated to stay with him forever."

"Yes. But if Sam dies…Well, that's complicated," said Dean, beginning to walk down the steps again. Before he could say anymore, Dean silenced him with a look. "No more questions. Do you want to sleep, angel? You're tired. You're weak. And in no shape to fight."

"I can fight. I can…help you. I'm not helpless," Castiel insisted feebly.

"No one said you were, but I don't know what's at the end of these stairs. I don't know what to expect…and I don't know if the other two are even there."

"Dean, please," Castiel pleaded. "I just want to get out of here, same as you. I'm tired of this place."

"I think you're tired in general, angel," Dean answered. "But if you insist on fighting, then I'm not going to stop you. I believe in you making your own decisions. You have a mission. I know. You have to see it through."

"Try to understand," said Castiel. "If it were up to me, I'd return to heaven and leave you to it. But I must stay with you until we can figure everything out."

Dean stopped again. "Then you understand that I'll do everything in my power to keep Sam safe. And I will never let myself believe that Heaven wants what's best for him. I know what they'll do to him."

"Why do have such a jaded opinion of Heaven?" And Dean deadlocked him with a look that said 'Really?' Castiel shook his head. "No, I'm serious. I understand we've been at war with your…Father for centuries before he gave the throne to you. But since you took it, we haven't been at war."

"I killed a third of your legion. If you were still at war with me, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Dean stated matter-of-factly.

"Valid point. I only saw a glimpse of that memory to understand," Castiel conceded.

"I have a jaded view of angels because they tried to kill me. It's as simple as that, angel. They tried to kill me so I try to kill them on principle,"

"You didn't kill me…You…," Castiel struggled for words as he began to grasp what he was saying. "You have had so many opportunities but you never did."

"I like you, angel. You should know that by now. And maybe, just maybe, I'm growing on you too. You had plenty of opportunity to _attempt _to kill me too. You didn't take the chance. My bed is always unguarded when I sleep,"

"It would always be an _attempt_, hmm?" Castiel mirrored his tone.

"An attempt because you wouldn't succeed. And I don't relish the prospect of killing you, Castiel. You're different from your brethren. You try to take an understanding of the situation. You have more personality than the entire celestial legion combined. You just don't know it yet."

"And you concluded all this from seeing me the first time?" asked Castiel skeptically.

"I did. I have a great intuition," The staircase had spiraled and Dean had finally come to the bottom. To a set of double wooden doors issuing out that acrid smoke.

Castiel heard a wisp of air and squeezed a handful of Dean's jacket. "They're here. They know we're here."

"Let's not keep them waiting," Dean grinned. "Can you stand by yourself?"

"I can try," Castiel muttered as Dean began to release his hold and Castiel put all the weight in his body on his feet again. It hurt like hell. Everything was aching and throbbing and the notion of ever using Will again seemed ludicrous. But he stood strong, slowly releasing Dean around the neck to let loose.

"You all right?" Dean asked, slowly leaning back so he could take a minute to observe.

"I'm fine," said Castiel.

" Okay then. You said it," Dean reached behind him underneath the collar and drew out a black-jeweled sword. It was the first time Castiel had seen it so close since he had the tip pressed to his neck. Now he was helping this demon that had his life in his hands in a similar situation.

"Ready for this?"

"I'm ready,"

* * *

><p>Dean used his free hand to push open the doors. Immediately swarms of wisps began to overcrowd them, blocking their view of the room. They issued out even as though they had been trapped inside for an eternity. Castiel almost bumped into Dean on accident because of how little he could see.<p>

It seemed to be the welcoming committee. They left moments later to envelope inside the room where they crowded around a single entity shrouded in darkness. The room itself wasn't grand or spacious. It was certainly a master bedroom or what looked like what might have been the Temple Acolyte's master room. No bed. Just gray walls with paint fading off the walls.

A single lamp remained by the door. Their only source of light, and in the center, there was no source of illumination, just a desk with a figure sitting at the front. From his shadowy silhouette, Castiel could tell this was no man. No angel. Horns protruded from the end of his head. And though he was sitting, he was enormous. His shadow seemed to emit steady black fumes. The wisps seemed to calm around their master. Not quite ready to attack yet.

Two glowing red eyes blinked through the darkness, narrowed right upon them.

"Bold, your majesty, even for you." It was that same voice that spoke to Castiel before. Everywhere all at once. Deep and foreboding.

"Let's make this quick, Anema. I have no time for this," said Dean. Funny coming from him of all people. "Where is my Guardian? Where is the boy? Are they still within these walls? And spare me the cryptic statements."

"It's pointless to challenge me, boy. I know your every secret while you shoot blindly in darkness that you cannot know nor comprehend,"

"Your blood will be all over my hands when I'm finished with you. I've eradicated your kind from my realm before. Don't think it's a big step for me to purge you off this plane of existence as well," said Dean, raising his sword to point at the demon's face through the dark.

"A foolish game to play, as you well know, your Majesty. If you had played your game fairly, you may not be in this situation. You may not be in any situation where you require another alive. But now you stumble blindly, searching for something you will never attain again."

"You have one more chance to tell me where they are or I'll _blow_ this entire place to hell,"

The Anema ignored him, came forward so that his hands were interlocked. The red eyes locked onto Castiel. "You travel with a fascinating companion. He quickly fell into my embrace. Quick to distrust you and turn on you. An angel traveling with our King. What an interesting turn of events. The Overlords are running rampant searching for their king, and here he is. Tell me, your Majesty. What do you expect when you return to the underrealm? A welcoming committee greater than this? Embrace death and die here rather than die a traitor to your own people."

"_Enough_!" It wasn't the first time Castiel witnessed the demon lose his temper, but the fury blazed on his face like wildfire just like before. "I will not be spoken to like that! I am your King. Whether you choose to accept this or not. As your King, I **command** you to tell me where Sam and Merrick are."

"Interesting notion about commands," said the Anema slowly. "You have to be loyal in order for a command given by the King to take it's desired effect. And you have foregone any loyalty given by me, your majesty. I recognize your title. And I recognize your place in our kingdom. But I will never bow to the freak Lucifer decided to crown as his prince."

Dean erupted in a storm of fury, leaning forward, the demon looked as menacing as ever with words dripping venom. "You violated the treaty when you brought your people to Earth. Killing. Infesting places such as these with your presence. We tempt. We lure. We do not kill directly. We punish those who must be punished. We punish them for all eternity. We bend them. We yield them to our ways until they are broken because that is their reward for destroying the gift that Heaven bestows upon them through life. And you would have destroyed all of that had you continued to run rampant as my Father allowed. He may not have cared if Hell went onto a full war with Heaven and Earth. But I do. I _still_ do."

"Your presence is what creates wars, my liege," The Anema stood up and Castiel was astounded by the full girth and stance of the demon. Towering seven feet, he had to crane his head to take him in fully. Horns that seemed smaller while he was sitting curved on his head until the tips touched his temples, like the modern depictions of the devil himself. A beast. And yet still he couldn't see all of him in the darkness, only the red of his eyes.

"There is no King in my country. There are no guardians, no knights. Even the army isn't in the Hell realm. You worry for wars that I could have started when you start one just by being here. Once this one...," He nodded off to Castiel. "informs his generals of your presence. You will be killed. But before I kill you, your majesty…and take that crown you so lovingly shelter, I must ask: What is this boy to you that you risk your life in my territory to claim him?"

Dean stepped forward, closer. He held his weapon firm with both hands in clear threat. "He is mine."

_Well, you couldn't get more direct than that_, thought Castiel.

Struck by a sudden impulse, Castiel closed the distance between Dean and himself. "Perhaps it's better for the moment if we do not goad him into action and go about this more tactically."

"Screw tactics," Dean hissed in response, inclining his head just slightly in Castiel's direction without looking at him.

Without warning, Dean's second of distraction was his bane. Hands much too large to exist on this plane struck out through the veil of darkness and Castiel could see with his own eyes the discoloring of flesh into an ugly purple-gray, the veins that ran rampant across his arms. He must have looked something out of a painting. A modern day depiction of a beast. But Castiel could only wonder what could make a man succumb to this form.

They curled around the openings of Dean's jacket and pulled him forward until he was hovering off the ground, suspended by the giant's hold. Dean's arms felt limp by his sides.

"Dean!" Castiel called, urging himself forward. It took a second to realize he wasn't moving. Not at all. His feet were trying to move, muscles straining from the effort. But he couldn't. One glance down told him why. Wisps were circling around his kneecaps, burning through flesh. They had nearly drained him of Will and now they were targeting his physical form.

"Down, angel….Yes…shall I put you to sleep? Would that be less painful? I can fill your dreams with these flesh eating wisps. I can fill your soul with the taint of darkness that you've yearned to taste since you first met this demon."

"Damn you," Castiel snarled through his teeth.

Smiling beatifically at Castiel, the demon turned his attention back to Dean.

"Interesting...Yes...I see your mind now...," Those red eyes blinked and they were left looking at an ominous silhouette by dim lighting that could have passed as a statue. "...Yes..A life debt...Interesting and tragic...He will die and you will follow through this bond you have created...Beautiful, if I do not kill you first...Hmm...And this angel...Hahahaha...Very good, Dean. It is no wonder my wisps were unable to affect you. Only a human mind could succumb to something as insipid as love."

Dean looked over his shoulder in Castiel's direction, but said nothing.

'Embrace eternal death, my liege," The demon's eyes were inches away from Dean's, absorbing him, draining his Will much more directly than he had done Castiel. Even though Castiel was all but immobile, he could still see. And he watched in near horror as the demon was being slowly killed. It was an unfitting end to something so great.

Dean, for his part, stood still, allowed the great demon to drain him. Perhaps he was in a trance. Perhaps he simply did not care any longer.

"Find the Will," said Castiel slowly. Above the sound of Will being infused into the Anema, Castiel spoke louder. "Dean. You can do this."

It must have done something because suddenly the Anema went into shock, shaking Dean as though he was a ragdoll. Swift as a striking snake, Dean raised his sword underneath the Anema's grip on him and slashed upward. The demon's arms were cut from the elbow down. With an ear-piercing scream, he released Dean and let him fall.

Dean landed neatly on his feet, sword still held in an attack stance, horizontal so it covered his mouth from the Anema's view. And all he could see was the whites of his eyes.

The Anema stuttered, cursed something out in a language Castiel could not hope to comprehend. But whatever he said made Dean smile.

"One more time. Where's Merrick and Sam?" Dean's voice was laced with a deadly calm.

The Anema groaned as he lay on his knees. It was truly a pathetic sight. Castiel remained immobile. He would have said something but Dean seemed to preoccupied with holding the Anema at his mercy.

Despite all his pain, the Anema managed a low chuckle. " You'll never….You will never find them. They're not here…demon. Your friends have much greater value than yourself…Than your angel…You are nothing."

Dean remained unfazed. "Then you have ceased to be useful to me."

He prepared for the killing stroke, but not before Castiel shouted out. "No, wait! Dean! Stop! He may be lying. He's lying to you. If anything, you can leave him alive and pry it out of him if you must."

"No one lies without arms," Dean pointed out. He raised his sword again and struck, plunging the blade deep into the Anema's chest cavity.

It was a poor sight. Blood began to gush out of him. But in addition to that, glowing, multicolored orbs began to emit from his body. Will Energy returning to its sources. Castiel slowly regained the ability to move again. He felt his fatigue begin to ebb away as Will began to return him.

Dean, who had not lost nearly as much as him merely held up his hand flat to Anema's face and collected the excess Will power that the demon had been collecting for years.

"What are you doing?" Castiel found he could walk again and approached Dean's side. "The Will is not yours. Wait for yours to return as mine did. This is what he collected from every traveler since you exiled him."

"That makes it mine," said Dean as though stating the obvious.

"No," Castiel grabbed his wrist. "It doesn't."

Dean smiled. "Okay."

That sounded too easy. "Okay?"

"You're going to be my traveling companion until we find my Sam and Merrick. I may as well appease," said Dean.

"I…," He wanted to talk about what the Anema said. The last thing he mentioned while reading Dean's mind. It was at the tip of his tongue but different words decided to tumble out before he could stop them. "I wonder if Sam and Merrick are far. Do you think they went off by themselves?" He finished in one quick breath, ashamed of not being able to ask what he truly meant.

"If there's one thing you can be sure of….Anema generally do not lie.," said Dean, facing away. And it was almost like he was thinking the same thing. What the Anema said about…

"Let's go," Dean interrupted his thought process, turning away to place his sword back into its sheath. "If they went up ahead, we can still catch up them to. Especially with everything back in order."

Castiel sheathed his sword as well, following as Dean began to exit through the double doors. The Anema wisps were gone now. And now that the magic barrier seemed to have been dispersed, it was hard to believe they bested him earlier. He could feel his full power returning, his injuries beginning to heal themselves, cuts beginning to reknit where shackles had once held him.

"How do you know they went where you intended. To Rose Manor, was it?" Castiel asked as they hit the spiraling staircase.

"I told you I would feel if something happened. Even pain. They're not in pain. My guess is they're putting as much distance between them and this place as possible. Honestly, though? Who can blame them?"

It just seemed so unlikely that Merrick would leave Dean. It seemed unlikely that Sam would be okay with that. The boy had an obvious attachment to the King. Neither of them liked Castiel nearly as much. Merrick, not at all. He felt a pang of guilt for nearly knocking him out earlier.

"I just feel like they wouldn't leave you," Castiel voiced out loud.

"You'd be surprised, angel," said Dean. And he stopped dead, hands on his hips, taking a deep breath. " I forgot the way we came in…"

Castiel stopped on a stair step. "You're joking."

"I'm not,"

"Great," said Castiel. "Wonderful. Now we're stuck in the dark."

"Just as the Anema warned," said Dean. "Have faith in me, angel. I'll find us a way out." Just as Dean took another step, the floor seemed to quake.

"What was that?"

"Maybe I put on weight during that whole ordeal," Dean suggested.

"That is the worst explanation for a quake in the ground that I have ever heard," said Castiel with a disapproving look at Dean. "No, I felt the ground shake just now."

"So did I. Ignore it. This place was just recently infested by Anema,"

"Dean, I-" But whatever Castiel was about to say was cut off by another quake, this time no one had taken a step.

"Oh, maybe it's haunted!" said Dean excitedly.

"No, it-" Again, another quake.

They were both nearly shook off the stairs when the doors behind him where a dying Anema once laid, opened. There towered the Anema, looking as gruesome as ever, this time with profuse amounts of black blood gushing from his chest.

His arms had grown back, though not normally. He had drawn a Will element that must have been through nature itself. From the elbow down, there seemed to be two long tree branches with twigs where veins once ran rampant.

"Anema," said Dean as though he was greeting an old friend he invited over tea. "What a practically unpleasant surprise. I must say. This isn't good timing."

"You think…," He could barely speak. The power he used to reinstate his arms was nearly all that was left of him. "You think…you can leave this place? You think you can simply walk away from this castle unscathed, O King of Kings?"

"Not really. I can't even find the exit. Shows how much of a King I am, right?"

"Not a good time to play jokes, Dean," said Castiel, edging up one step so he was closer to the demon and they were only a step apart.

"It's always a good time to-"

The Anema opened wide and let out a bellow. The windows. He wasn't even aware there were windows, shattered upon impact from the sound. Light filtered in in the form of a morning sun. The scream did more than that. Castiel watched as the Anema wisps took off from the castle like flies drawn to light. The walls began to shake as though an earthquake hit, as though the fault line seemed to collapse beneath them.

The Anema drew out two enormous swords the size of his own arms, gave another groundbreaking scream and began to charge towards them.

"RUN!" Dean shouted.

That one word put Castiel into action. He turned and began to run, Dean hot in front of him. The stairs seemed to crumble with every step he took, with every piece of flooring that he was off fell underneath him. Behind him, the entire castle shook with the coming of the Anema. Curling his fist, Castiel drew all the power inside him to form a ball of blue lightning that he threw blindly over his shoulder.

He didn't have to look behind him to know it was parried away as though it was a softball. He could hear it in the Anema's laughter as he drew closer, faster than a beast should have been, more frightening then what a low class demon should have been.

And without warning, flaming hot fingers closed around Castiel's ankle, sharp from the branch like texture. Castiel prepared to fall, Dean's name on his lips as he cried out in the only way he knew how for help.

But he never hit the next step. Dean caught his elbow with surprising grace, he had turned for him again instead of continuing on.

"Dean!" Castiel yelled as the Anema's grip tightened and he felt piercing pokes in his skin and blood being drawn. The grip was so tight…His Will…for the third time today. "Just g-"

"Like Hell," Dean interrupted with a great wrench, the Anema released Castiel and Dean pulled him up the first floor.

As soon as Castiel was free, Dean shoved the angel behind him. He cast a fire spell through his fingertips and the Anema's face was suddenly ablaze. The Anema grabbed a hold of Dean's waist with both hands, force that looked like it was shattering bones and stabbed one of the swords deep into Dean's stomach.

"DEAN!" Castiel shouted, too late. But the demon cried out in anguish. His pain went through Castiel like it was his own.

Dean recovered just enough to punch the Anema in the face, watch his face snap to one side. He could hear the break in Dean's knuckle bones. Not delaying a moment, Dean's fingertips alight with a raw show of fire element; he blasted the Anema right off his feet, sent him flying to the bottom of the crumbling stair steps.

Castiel went into action, beginning to drag Dean towards him. "Dean. Listen, it's going to be fine…"

All the while the castle continued to crumble all around them. Castiel's eyes drifted to the Anema at the bottom of the steps. Not dead. Surely, not dead. Just his luck. He'd be getting up for more. Whatever Will he had drained was just enough to keep him going. He had been wrong in assuming that it was only enough to regrow those grotesque shapes he called arms.

He could already see him stirring…

"Dean…," The tremor in his voice was nearly palpable.

But Dean was starting to change. His complexion seemed to pale. His eyes were open but unfocused, slowly swiveling to focus on Castiel.

"Come on, we have to go. NOW!" The last word was loud enough, he slung Dean's arm around his shoulder and supported his weight. Just the pass of their chests was enough for Castiel's entire suit to become wet with blood.

Dean was hardly lightweight. And he could barely support himself. But Castiel turned tail and began to run, following the same path that Dean took when he led them down here. Blood dripped, leaving a trail for the Anema to follow. He felt feeble resistance in Dean's hold on him as the demon squeezed his neck once and let go.

"Leave me here…," Dean whispered, beginning to pull away, pulling them both so that they hit the hallway wall and Dean released Castiel to slump against it with Castiel awkwardly holding onto Dean's elbow.

"Come on, Dean," Castiel insisted, gripping him tight.

"Go…More are coming. Tell them…," Dean pleaded. He sliced his eyes into Castiel's, speaking with earnest. "Angel... Save them. Get him somewhere…safe…For me…Please."

And as Castiel looked into his eyes, blood began to form in Dean's eyes rather than tears. The blood spilled over and rolled down his cheeks. Whatever the blade was made out of was something special. Castiel wondered vaguely if the blade was laced with poison or if it caused another drainage of Will Power. Truly, this place taught one to guard their own power in whatever way possible.

"I'm not leaving without you," said Castiel firmly. "Do you understand me? I'm not leaving without you, Dean."

"You have to," Just as Dean said it, the hall behind him exploded in a shower of debris. The Anema snarled once and began to charge.

"You owe me," said Castiel, thinking fast, wrenching Dean close to him in a tight embrace. He closed his eyes and focused all the Will he had. While he did, his injury in his ankle began to heal, slowly knitting skin back and overlapping damaged nerves. Castiel's wings broke from his back and curled around them.

With one look back at the Anema, Castiel threw a lightning spell at a damaged light above the Anema's hand, timing it carefully so the spilled glass hit the Anema atop his head. Castiel's eyes alit with a blue glow as he faced Dean. To him, it was just the two of them. Not some rampaging demon chasing them.

And Gravity didn't exist in that moment.

Castiel spun them around, taking flight and pulling Dean along with him. The hallway was his path, his flightpath. He jumped with the speed of light and pulled Dean along with him, looking at nothing but the path straight ahead. The exit. The way out. The only way they were ever going to get out of here.

Behind him, the demon roared with such ferocity, but Castiel ignored all of it. He wrapped his wings around Dean, preventing any hindrance in case he was going too fast and nature itself wanted to interfere just for his momentum. The castle continued to crumble around them. Castiel ducked and dodged falling debris, and managed to find a window.

"Hold on to me, Dean," But the demon wasn't even looking at him. Just before making contact with the window, he felt a stinging pain in his chest before the two of them blew through the window.

The landing wasn't so graceful. Just like in his dream, Castiel found jagged rocks as groundwork. The two of them rolled into the rocks where Castiel lost his grip of Dean and only caught a single glimpse of him rolling further away from the castle as Castiel himself nearly lost consciousness from the impact.

He was out for about a minute, waking to sounds returning to him and the continued sounds of the Temple of Light caving in on itself.

Castiel slowly pulled himself to his feet. He'd tend to Dean after the danger was done. Raising his arm as high as he could, the angel called to the heavens and let the storm clouds that swirled around the temple to contract, split apart and tendrils of lightning began to pour out of the sky towards the temple below.

"Let this land be cleansed of this taint," Castiel whispered, only for himself, closing his eyes as the lightning struck the tall towers, collapsing the remaining walls until all that remained of the former Temple of Light was a pile of rubble with steady smoking rising from the ashes.

* * *

><p><strong>Grace Infusion: <strong>Grace Infusion involves the draining of Angelic Grace(dubbed Immortal Flame by demon-kind) to infuse or power up Will. Grace Infusion is not used often or at all because the draining of Grace usually entails the death of the individual being drained to attain full power usage. Angels do not use eachother's power as it is forbidden, and no demon has ever spared an angel.


	11. XI

**A/N: Thanks for all the follows and lovely reviews. Ya'll are the best. Support is everything, you guys.**

* * *

><p>Castiel stood at the head of the convinience store counter proudly. His items consisted of several supply items splayed on the counter. Gauze. Long white tape that could have been used for bandaging purposes.<p>

Behind him, a line of angry people had formed and the clerk stared at the open packages that Castiel didn't refrain from manhandling.

"You know we have a policy if you break it, you buy it, right?" The clerk said. He was a shrewd looking old man with a ball cap that covered his eyes and a plaid shirt. A grumpy man, perhaps angry at the world. With that form of dressing, he was probably once a hunter in the wild.

"I have a sufficient payment method," Just like Dean told him to do, Castiel drew out a handful of sweaty green bills and various coins. He released them, watching nearly all the coins roll off the surface. The clerk all but reached over the counter and slammed the angel's head into the pile of money.

" Oh...Goody...It's not like there's a line or anything," said the clerk.

"There is a line," Castiel pointed out.

"Hmm," The old man began to sort out Castiel's coins while nearly everyone sighed in frustration behind him.

After it was all sorted out, Castiel ended up overpaying and everyone in line knew it. Because it took a better part of twenty minutes to pay for his transaction, no one bothered to step up and correct this. Castiel didn't seem to mind and the old man certainly didn't mind. He ushered all of the change Castiel poured out into his register and bagged up Castiel's items into a white bag, all but shoving it at him to get him out of there.

When Castiel walked out, it was a ways. Dean wasn't very inconspicuously placed. He rested in the front seat of a black car that both of them had stolen(much to Castiel's chagrin).

It had been three days since the two of them escaped with just their lives from a rampaging Anema. Three days since both of them were nearly slaves to a demon that surpassed both of them. The evidence of that was in Castiel's nearly healed wounds and Dean looked in much worse shape than he was since they left the Temple of Light.

He had dragged Dean out of there. He didn't know why he did. Perhaps it was because twice in one place, Dean had saved his life there. He had come back for him, then he had literally pulled him from the clenches of the Anema who wanted nothing more than to tear Castiel apart with his teeth.

Dean was barely conscious when Castiel entered the car. Even the sound of the closing car door did nothing to rouse the demon from his sleep. This was normal, Castiel learned. He had lost a lot of blood. And no amount of holding the wound did anything but aggravate the demon. Dean wasn't exactly the easiest person to take care of. As royalty, in fact, he was very difficult to accommodate. Surprising, considering all royalty might have done was lounge around and let others cater to their needs and desires. Not Dean.

The car was an inconceivable form of transportation. He'd rather have flown. Now that he wasn't restrained by an insane power-draining demon, everything was easier. They had already theorized that the blade that the Anema was used had some kind of poison laced on it. Poison that was steady draining the King's will and life energy.

But they couldn't fly. Because Dean didn't want to fly. And a part of Castiel was okay with that because he was sure the wound would only increase in pain if Castiel flew him there. At the cost of one time excruciating pain, Castiel conceded.

"I already told you, that was a waste," said Dean out of nowhere. Castiel looked over to see the King eying Castiel's bag of supplies with distaste.

"You already trumped out the alternative. I offered. You refused. Several times," said Castiel, matching his tone.

"I already told you...I don't need your damn magic," said Dean, sighing long and hard, ragged and broken. "I don't know what the outcome will be. I've never let a pure celestial near enough to try it."

"My power can heal you instantly, Dean," Castiel remarked. But then he thought of something. "What about what you said back there? Infusing my...Grace."

It was a horrible prospect to think of. And he didn't even know what made him consider it. But Dean wasn't going to last long without some kind of outside help. His own power was too diminished to properly close the wound that the Anema left.

"You already expressed your disgust regarding that. So I know where you stand," Dean retorted icily. "We don't allow angels to live after we drain them of Grace and to be honest with you, angel. I don't know how to _not_ kill you while we're at it."

"How can you not know when to stop?"

Dean turned to him, leaned closer in his seat and Castiel caught the fresh smell of his blood, like a candle that was recently extinguished only perhaps ten times stronger. He leaned forward, spoke directly to Castiel's lips. "Think of it as an addiction. Why do you think most of my kind want to eradicate yours? You have the power we lost. It all dates back to the angels that fell with Lucifer. You have all this power and we want it. We live off the same power you do and it's limited because it burns out. For you, it never burns out. You have the blessing of God. You have the blessing of the Archangels. We'll never have that."

Dean reached over and caressed the side of Castiel's cheek. His touch felt so unbearably hot, much hotter than it usually was. Like he was running a fever and on his death bed. "When we take your Grace, we succumb to the rage and the jealousy that burned our "ancestors". The vengeance of the angels that fell. My Father's anger…I feel it every time. I could feel him when I killed the angels that came for us. And there is no stopping when it starts."

Castiel didn't stop his reaching hand. His words sounded much like bloodthirst of a feral animal. He shouldn't have been surprised, considering demons were viewed as savage predators to begin with. He watched Dean's hand drop and stared at its place on his lap.

Castiel persisted gently. "You have Will. Your own will, not the power that comes from us. They would not call it Will if it wasn't an embodiment of your own determination and concentration. You can stop yourself. You just have to concentrate long enough...and I know..."

He fumbled with his words for a moment. The next words sounded almost inaudible. "I know you wouldn't kill me."

Dean laughed a feeble laugh that turned into a cough. As if to embellish the moment, he drew out a cigarette, stuck it in his mouth and weakly lit the end with a lighter. The deep inhale he took filled the car with the smell of strong tobacco.

"You know I wouldn't kill you," Dean repeated. "Right. I wouldn't. If I could help it. But you, I can't say the same, can I?"

Castiel stared at him for a long moment. "I told you I wouldn't attempt to kill you. You said it yourself back there."

"Spare me your heroism, Castiel. You owe me your life. You're only here because I saved your ass back there," Dean reached over and took a handful of Castiel's jacket and pulled the angel towards him. "If I hadn't, you wouldn't be here."

He released Castiel, coughing and sputtering as he blew out smoke. "I told you to leave me behind. If you had, you might be with Merrick and Sam by now. "

Now it came out. What he was so angry about. Why Castiel had been cold-shouldered for the last three days. "We're a town away from Rose Manor and we'll find them. If they went the direction you told them, they're there, waiting for us. What do you want me to say, Dean? I do owe you my life. I owe you my life twice. But you're angry, why?"

Dean's eye twitched with annoyance, he cast another disdainful look at the supplies on Castiel's lap and started the car. As he did, Castiel got a better look at the extent of his injuries that he worked so hard to hide behind the black leather jacket. Now that the jacket was open, he could see a fraction of the open wound. The blood was gushing out of Dean's stomach, had extended far up to his chest where even the straps of his tanktop were wet with red and marked on his skin.

Deciding that Dean wasn't going to say anymore with that cold expression on his face, Castiel changed the subject. "What's in Rose Manor?"

Without looking at him, only taking another drag of his cigarette, Dean answered after a long moment. "My sister."

He wasn't sure he heard him right. " Your sister."

"My sister," Dean sighed, releasing the wheel to take a hold of his wound. He grunted and Castiel thought he was going to pass out again but he didn't. He just adjusted his posture to be slightly forward. It was a pathetic sight and yet Castiel pitied the demon. He certainly wouldn't have been in this position if it weren't for Castiel.

"What happened the last two days...? All I remember is that Anema charging at us...Next thing I know is you waking me up and telling me we need to waste all the human money I have so you can buy things," said Dean snappishly.

"You've been swimming out of consciousness. Twice I asked if you could accept an alternative method instead of letting this...poison in your system kill you...," Castiel gave him a baleful look. "You didn't accept either times. I attributed to your lack of wakefulness. But, I digress considering you still haven't thought of the possibility in full consciousness."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Uh huh."

"Back to the subject matter at hand. You were saying something about a sister?"

As Dean rose, his eyes narrowed in on Castiel's curious expression. "Have I ever told you why I left Hell for this realm?"

"More or less," Castiel admitted. "I knew better than to believe what you were saying. I think at one point you said you wanted to exploit Sam's power against Heaven and hand him as a trophy to your king..." His lips twitched, fighting a smile. "Well, you are that King."

Dean, however didn't smile. His eyes remained on the road ahead of him. "My sister is a semi precognitive demon. It means she can somewhat see the future. She can see almost anything that happens in this world at any given moment. You're familiar with that power, because it comes from the legends surrounding the Scripture. Let's not go into _that_ subject matter right now. She has always had this power. And it comes simply from her age and perfected use of her power."

"And you think she knows where Merrick and Sam are?"

"Even if they didn't go there, she might point us in the right direction," Dean glanced over. "I don't know how far you're willing to go, but I'm willing to go anywhere I need to to find him."

Castiel had an inkling he was actually going somewhere with this. "Because...?"

"Because I have to. And I will tell you why,"

"You'll tell me the truth?" Castiel asked, eying Dean's expression to detect any sign of amusement. He couldn't find any. Perhaps it was because his face seemed to be cracking under the strain of holding his injury in with one hand.

"I'll tell you everything. I owe you that, don't I? Now that you've abandoned your mission to save the life of a demon,"

"Is that a joke? It's not funny," Castiel replied very seriously.

Dean sighed again, turning a sharp corner. "One of these days, you're going to really regret not being more accommodating to my sense of humor."

"Uh huh," said Castiel. Fat chance. They were in silence for a long moment and Castiel wondered if Dean was even on the same train of thought as before or if he was just focused on driving and getting them to their destination. All Castiel could see ahead of them was empty road and an occasional sign that said how close they were to the next prefecture still within the region of Paradise Rock.

Abruptly, Dean shifted in his seat and sighed. His expression slowly shifted to one of lost contemplation. When he spoke, his voice was somber."I'm at war, angel. Before I left this realm, I received several reports of an uprising starting in the ranks. I didn't believe it at first...I was arrogant. I believed that as long as I sat upon the throne, the whole entire realm would fall into place under my rule. It was only that easy for my Father. But before he died...He made sure I knew how to run the damn place. He taught me our place in the universe. And what we were meant to do."

The demon took a long drag of his cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. And Castiel remained still, enraptured in Dean's story. " There were some who believed otherwise."

"They're demons," Castiel answered.

Dean just looked at him and blinked.

"Well, I'm just saying. They _are_ demons. It's in your nature to be cruel and treacherous to eachother. Hasn't history proven that time and time again?"

"Call me an optimist," said Dean, not liking being interrupted. He was much more crabby when injured. "I didn't believe my own subjects would turn on me, but in time, it was hard to ignore. Legions were turning against each other. Traitors in each rank. Defectors. I couldn't ignore this war, so I acted. I investigated. It turns out the traitors weren't normal demons. Normal demons you've seen. Ugly, disgusting things, aren't they? Sweaty and hairy with big teeth? Yeah...They're not exactly the brightest bulbs in our bunch. And definitely not smart enough to betray me outright. No, they serve the most powerful. And up until then? I _thought_ that was me."

"But it wasn't you," Castiel guessed.

"No, I am the strongest demon. The strongest _demon. _Yes. But these demons were not defecting to another demon. The angels that fell* with Lucifer had a different perspective than I do. While they believe that our primary objective was to pull the unworthy souls from Earth and punish them for all eternity, they believe it's our duty to wage war with Heaven and Earth. To take Earth as our own. They were there when Lucifer was cast out and they followed him down to the bowels of Hell. They _believe_ that this world belongs to them and making no effort to claim it is a violation of who we are and what we represent."

"These are the legion that fell with Lucifer. Yes, I remember them. Belial. Abaddon. Sammael, Molloch. To name a few," said Castiel.

"To name a few," Dean repeated, nodding. "While a civil war's on my table, there were bigger problems at hand."

"Bigger problems? Sounds like your throne might not be yours when you get back to Hell,"

"My throne will be mine. I said it's on the table. And the crown is mine. It's not really as simple as just sitting in my chair and claiming the seat. The king has to die in order for the throne to be forfeit," Dean explained. "And I'm not dead yet."

"So define your 'bigger problems', why don't you?"

Dean exhaled and Castiel could detect the labor he used just to maintain his steadiness. "Rumors began to surface that the prophecy was coming into fruition. You know the tale. Your kind wrote it. Something about a '_A being of unassuming proportions bringing doom to Heaven and Hell_'?"

"I was there when it was written," said Castiel. "That prophecy is for you, the human torn from Earth to serve in Hell as the next ruler."

"In case you haven't been listening, angel. It was never me," Dean hissed impatiently. "I never wanted a war with your kind. I wanted you to stay on your side and me to stay on my side. Everyone assumed it was me. Your Generals sent hundreds of angels to their death and still assumed it was me. But I never wanted this war to begin like those Fallen do."

"You want something else,"

"I want peace," Dean corrected, turning to face Castiel fully so he deadlock him with a look of utmost seriousness.

Castiel waited to let this sink in. A being of order and chaos? Wasn't that always Dean and Lucifer both? How could it be otherwise?

He cleared his throat and found his voice. "If it was never you...then who is it?"

Dean was a long time answering. He rolled down his window and threw the cigarette butt out the window into the nights highway. "It took me a long time to find that out...I had to kill...a lot of angels unnecessarily to find out that information. Loyalists* like to keep their secrets. They'd rather die than give them out. I'll give props on the resolve, but it was unnecessary bloodshed if they only opened their damn mouths and gave me that name."

Castiel might have scoffed at this, but there was so much sincerity in Dean's face that it was hard to doubt it. He truly did not wish to have killed anyone.

"...Eventually I found her. Her name was Anna...Pretty redhead. I charmed her like I did all the rest, played my little eyes at her like this," He batted his eyelashes at Castiel. "And she resisted, just like the others. I figured it was another lost case, another angel I'd have to drain of Flame until I was satisfied, but then she said it. His name: Sam."

There was a pause in which Castiel tore his gaze away from Dean, faced the front window, faced his own window. He exhaled sharply.

"And you found Sam, didn't you? So this was your design all along then, Dean? To find this boy of immense power and use him in your war against the Fallen and us?" Castiel could barely stand to keep his voice steady. Already, he could feel heat blaze in his cheeks. All this time, he trusted him. And this is where it got him. Betrayed. He had never felt so betrayed in his life.

It really shouldn't have mattered at all. He really should have expected this..

"I never said that," said Dean, holding up a finger and locking eyes with Castiel. Hard green meeting blue. "Not once."

"It's what you imply," said Castiel through his teeth.

"I'm...I'm not here to use Sam, angel. It was never my plan to use him. I didn't abandon my kingdom to use a weapon against Heaven and Earth and start a war. I didn't come all this way to find Sam so I could protect him and shield him from the horrors of Heaven and Hell...I _came _to this realm to kill him,"

Instinct had taken over for Castiel without him even being aware of it. His fingers had curled around the hilt of his sword and once Dean's words registered, they had loosened off his weapon with a slight tremble. His next words came out in a sharp breath of disbelief. "What?"

"You heard me," said Dean grimly, returning his gaze to the road.

"How...Why...? It's impossible,"

"It's not impossible. It's the truth and it's what you've been waiting to hear from me. A being of that power, I can't afford walking the earth as a death trap for Heaven to utilize and I'll be damned if the Fallen get ahold of him and make him their new deity,"

"No, it's impossible, Dean. Are you listening to yourself?" Castiel couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was still hard for this to be true. "He's just a child."

"Don't you think I know that?" Dean hissed. "Don't you think I haven't thought of that? He doesn't even know what power he has. Only that it's uncontrollable and untamed. And you've witnessed that yourself."

"I did witness that," said Castiel. " And I saw what he could do. Banish angels with a scream. Wipe out a city with a burst of emotion. Has it occurred to you that this boy loves you? He does and I've seen it. Has it occurred to you that an _attempted_ assassination by you of all people might just drive Sam to be the one thing you hope he doesn't become?"

"It would always be an attempt?"

"Because you would _never _succeed,"

Dean shook his head, stubborn. "That's a risk. It doesn't matter. I will succeed. It has to be done. And trust me, angel. You stopping me...I swear, I'll kill you for it. The only reason I'm confiding in you is so this is fair game. You either join me or you run and give him to Heaven. The latter brings about a war, and you know it."

"Assume I did take him to Heaven, Dean. There's no guarantee they won't kill him either. You said so yourself once. Why assume we'll have a superweapon and break our treaty?"

"Because you already tried to kill me once and broke the damn treaty!" Dean shouted. "What makes you think I can expect any less from your people?!"

"What makes _you_ think you're ready to fight? You think you can take on an Archangel-level power? I hardly think so, demon! You will die and you will destroy us all if you attempt it."

"I...I will not be weak for long. We're about to rectify that," Dean snarled, pressing hard on the gas so that the car sped up. "This conversation is over. I can't think with your judging eyes. You wait until we get to Rose Manor and we can speak more when we've met her."

* * *

><p><strong>Fallen Angels- <strong>Angels that fell with Lucifer during the First War. Most of these angels are presumed dead or missing in action. Recently some have revealed themselves behind a rebellion in Hell against the King for the throne. Fallen belief is that though Lucifer desired to maintain order in Hell, his ideals were to rule over Heaven, Hell and Earth. Most believe that the one true King is Lucifer and not any that follows after, though Lucifer is dead.

**Loyalists- **Another name for the angels still loyal to God and Heaven. This is a term coined by Fallen as well as the demons under Dean.


	12. XII

"I won't let you," The determination behind Castiel's voice was sound.

"You won't what, now?"

"I will not let you. Stop this car, now," Castiel demanded.

"Like hell, I'm stopping the car. We're going to Rose Manor right now and I'm going to fulfill my mission just as you wish to fulfill yours,"

"That's the thing, Dean. Your mission conflicts mine," Realizing Dean wasn't going to stop, Castiel took a hold of the wheel. Immediately the car began to swerve off the road, nearly hitting an incoming car.

"Are you _insane_?!" Dean shouted over the sound of tired screeching. "Let go!"

"No," said Castiel very firmly, swerving the car again. This time much more dangerously. Dean elbowed Castiel in the jaw and the angel felt a sharp sting from the impact and a brief sparkle of stars before he yanked on the steering wheel with determination this time.

The car went flying, toppling off the road in a series of dangerous flips with both passengers clashing painfully with the dashboard, the roof and the steering wheel itself. There was no way to see each other, only feel them when they accidentally clashed. Castiel felt warm blood splash his face and sting where it landed on contact.

The car came to stop, upside down, just off the side in a deserted dirt road. Despite how abandoned the road seemed to be, a black SVU skidded to a stop in front of the accident.

Dean was the one who climbed out of his upturned window first, covered in cuts and scrapes. A new wound was blossoming on the side of his face like a third degree burn.

"Oh my God. Oh my God," The girl with blonde curls was all in a panic. "Are you okay? Oh my God. Oh my God."

Dean didn't say anything. He pulled all of his body out of the smoking car. He felt fingers close around his ankle and he kicked them away, preventing Castiel from making his presence known or stopping Dean. Whatever the intention was. Dean was a grotesque mask of blood and burns. He was barely recognizable. If not for the charred flesh barely casing his face, he might have been a black skeleton.

The girl was still fussing, in a panic. Eyes swiveling from Dean to the wrecked car in amazement that the man was managing to move at all. He placed his palms flat on the concrete and started to put all of his weight into his arms so that he could stand up fully.

"Are you okay?" She asked again. And for Dean, her voice seemed to come from far away. He coughed in response and some smoke made the blood he hacked up look slightly black in color.

As if just aware of her, Dean took a hold of her neck and she let out a strangled scream as the demon closed in. Their eyes locked and Dean's turned cold. Look at me. Look nowhere else. Embrace your inner darkness, my child."

She blinked, seemed to struggle feebly in his grip but his hold tightened. She couldn't seem to look away and slowly, her lips parted in a gasp.

Dean growled. His voice echoed on the very edges "Oh, you have heart. Just what I needed. Human life is the most precious life known to the world. And your power will become one with me...Look only at me...and see. Truly...See. "

Little known to Dean, Castiel had already begun to climb out himself. And once he realized what Dean was doing, his eyes widened in disbelief.

"No!" Castiel cried out, and with lightning speed he body slammed into Dean and sent the demon flying into the ground. Once in Dean's place, Castiel took a hold of the girl's cheek, whispering one word as though speaking to a lover in secret. "Walk away from this. This has nothing to do with you anymore. _Forget_."

He may not have been able to read minds like an Archangel or influence them to do his bidding by force like a Fallen, but taking away memories was possible. It was still breaking the rules, but what choice did he have? Castiel didn't want her to run away from them screaming bloody murder, telling whoever listened to her that demons and angels existed in this world.

She blinked, seeming to forget her trance, shaking her head for a second and focusing on Castiel and the extent of his own injuries. "Oh. Wow. I feel kind of dizzy...What happened here?...Was there some kind of accident?"

Castiel brushed his fingers underneath her chin. "It's all right. You have nothing to do with this accident at all. Just go home and forget any thoughts of this incident. As far as you know, you ran over a rabbit, but only mildly injured it. That was the reason for your delay to your destination. You watched the rabbit run into the forest."

"I did?" The girl questioned, seeming to consent to Castiel's implemented train of thought.

"A fucking bunny. Really now," Dean commented from the ground, laughing into the concrete as he listened.

Besides an affronted look, Castiel ignored him. "Yes. Just a wounded animal. You'll be safe and sound from all of this. Now turn away before someone else sees you with us."

As the girl slowly nodded and began to turn back towards her vehicle, Castiel turned incredulously to Dean. She threw an uncertain look at Dean's back and Castiel was glad that she couldn't see his front, couldn't see the extent of his wounds. He didn't have a mirror and he could only imagine that Dean looked much worse. Castiel's trenchcoat was torn in several places, patched and in tatters. The suit he wore underneath felt hot, especially on his chest.

Patting his chest, he felt the source of the burn and pulled a ragged piece of burning black metal from his skin. Flesh began to repair itself at a much slower rate. But other than that, he retained no other serious injury.

"Is this what it comes to, your majesty? Constant pain and struggle? You were going to kill that girl," Castiel watched as the demon began to crawl on his front, trying to get away, and Castiel began to follow, carefully paced as he eyed down Dean with some disappointment.

"Desperate...," A cough and sputter. "...Desperate times."

"Dean," Castiel softened, kneeling next to him. "Dean. Look at me."

The demon didn't turn but he did stop and Castiel gently took a shoulder and flipped Dean onto his back. The demon consented with a grunt but now they were looking at each other face to face. Even through his wounds, the massive bloody one in his stomach that had definitely expanded since the accident.

A bubble of blood began to form in Dean's lip, popping, and leaving a trail to dribble down his chin. "I'm done for."

"Don't say that," said Castiel. "We'll take care of this from here on, Dean. I'm going to call my brothers-in-arms now. From here, we'll take care of this and see where we go from here."

Castiel stood up, turned away from Dean and placed two fingers on his temple. He closed his eyes. It was a subtle method of communication yet the only one he knew that would be secure enough to reach only one angel.

"Uriel, this is Castiel. We have a location for the boy. He's in Rose Manor in Paradise Rock...Yes...Yes, I'm close by. I can sense it...I have reason to believe the boy is in danger. Approach this situation with caution, Uriel. I'm sending you my location," Castiel opened his eyes very briefly, giving a good look at his surroundings, memorizing every detail. The burning car, the shape and alignment of the stars. He took a glance behind him in Dean's direction. "If it's possible, do not come here alone."

Just as Castiel disconnected his link to Uriel, he heard an agonizing scream behind him. Castiel whipped around to watch Dean and the mystery girl that Castiel had just tranced into leaving near her car door. Dean's face was close to hers, too close, like they were kissing. The young girl's body was enraptured in what looked like gleaming red chains, holding her to Dean's body as he drained her of life.

"Dean!" Castiel cried out, but he had barely taken two steps when Dean dropped the lifeless corpse. All of his injuries had vanished and only dried blood stains remained, caked on his face, his arms, in the holes in his jackets where he had been scraped and flesh had torn open. There was no evidence at all that this demon had been in a life threatening situation. He could have been in rags just being on the street, for anyone else knew. Wasn't a much better alternative.

Dean reacted on point to Castiel's call, raising a hand to create a barrier between them. The barrier was red-gold in appearance, swirling steady, nearly transparent flames that was an embodiment of the demon's Will power.

Castiel stopped dead, glowering at the demon with such anger that he felt his fingernails draw blood from his palms.

"Know what my last words to her were?" Dean kept one hand trained on the barrier while he reached for his sword with the other and Castiel watched as the demon raise it to point directly at Castiel's throat.

"Does it matter?" spat Castiel through his teeth.

"It should be. To you. I might just say it to you one day if you keep this up, angel," Dean replied seriously. He circled Castiel and the barrier followed, sidestepping the girl he had just killed. Castiel tailed him like a hawk to its prey.

"You just murdered an innocent," pointed out Castiel. " I had a shred of hope that you might have an inkling of decency that you wouldn't kill Sam, but now I know more than ever. You must be stopped. Even if it costs my life,"

"I don't want to fight you, angel," Dean admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. " I never did. You're a feisty one. And I bet you're lightning under the bed sheets."

"Take down your barrier and let's do this, demon," Castiel drew out his sword and twirled it above his head in a fighting stance. His clothes began to disperse, his body being engulfed in a brief blue-green light before his silver armor reappeared.

As expected, Dean only smiled and slowly lowered his hand. The fire barrier flickered once and vanished without a trace. They stood in silence for less than a second before Castiel charged and aimed a precise strike for the demon's throat. But the demon was gone, taking a jump high above Castiel.

By the time Castiel realized, it was too late. He glanced up to see Dean strike the air in Castiel's direction. The impact was so great that Castiel jumped away in time, but only just. A perfect line of red flames etched into the cement.

"A swordless cut...?" Castiel began, but then Dean was upon him again, landed in front and issuing a flurry of strikes against Castiel''s sword. It took everything just to block every one of them. Midst the onslaught, Dean's fingers wrapped around Castiel's arm and threw him against the girl's car. Castiel slammed against it with enough force to turn the machine over.

"Quit playing around and fight," Dean challenged, pointing his sword at Castiel in clear mockery. He moved it a few inches so the tip positioned just above Castiel's eyebrow. Powering up, a circlet of red inferno ran Dean's body from his toes all the way to his hand where the element blasted from the sword and combusted the car behind Castiel.

Castiel covered his face with his hands and dodged the incoming debris. He peeked up and found the demon leering at him, his sword plunged in the ground with Dean leaning on it. His eyes showed he was just waiting for Castiel's retaliation.

Castiel curled his hand into a fist and felt a power up of his own. Lightning began to surge all around him, creating a spell that shrouded him with a semi-transparent green orb of protection. Meanwhile bolts of lightning began to rain down, circling him in sync with the sphere, charging the sphere that engulfed his entire being.

And Dean only waited, smiling broadly when the spell completed, leaning off his sword and taking it out of the ground. "Come on, angel. Don't leave me hanging, now."

A piercing scream left Castiel's lips as he let it all out. All the stored will power in this one attack, unleashed the waves of lightning unto Dean, watched them crash into the demon and explode in light that shot up to the heavens. Castiel himself staggered from it, nearly was knocked off his feet from the blast wave.

It wasn't meant to kill. Only weaken.

He panted from the effort, felt a knife in his ribs, a constant poking at his lungs. He rubbed the place where the stitch was and waited for the smoke to clear.

And weaken it must have done because the figure he saw standing through the smoke wasn't standing proud and arrogant like he once was before.

"You're really something, Castiel," said Dean, strength in his voice as he raised his sword hand to his lips and covered himself from the smoke that would enter his lungs. He barely scratched him. The king was high off the power he had received from killing a human. There was no bigger crime than a demon killing an innocent life and the king had broken that rule.

He moved too fast for Castiel to see, caught the angel off guard when he pulled him into an embrace and bent Castiel down as though they were in a dance. Dean laced his fingers with Castiel's and supported his back with the other.

"Do you remember what happened when we first met?" Dean whispered gently, drawing closer to brush his lips against Castiel's temple.

"You lied," Castiel answered almost venomously. What was the point in fighting now? His Will had exhausted itself and he could tell that the king was barely fazed. A few rips in the jacket, and that might just have been attributed to their car accident a few moments ago.

"I didn't lie. I only tell the truth," said Dean in a would-be honest voice.

"You've always lied," Despair clouded Castiel's voice. He was close to death. He knew it. "Kill me if you're going to."

"Can't handle the suspense, can you?" Dean asked, grinning.

"Can't handle your lies anymore," Castiel replied. "I don't know why you even bothered saving me in the Temple...only to see me fail later...You're a cruel monster."

"We're all monsters in this world, angel. I'm just more honest about it," said Dean, fire blazing in his eyes in a new kind of way.

Dean drew back, meeting Castiel's gaze evenly and capturing Castiel's lips in a very heated kiss. This time, Castiel felt the instinct to stop Dean die out of him. Instead he gave in, his tongue battling Dean's for dominance, inhaling deep to breathe in the heady scent that the demon brought of a thousand candles being extinguished all at once.

Almost unwilling to let him go, Dean pulled away and Castiel's eyes remained closed, hungry for more, dying for more. The kiss had destroyed his will to fight Dean. And all he could think about was more. How much he wanted it. Distantly, the back of his mind screamed its protests about "sinful" and all the rules he had ever learned about right and wrong. But he found it very easy to ignore all of that for now.

"I have to go," Dean whispered against Castiel's forehead.

"No," Castiel implored. "You don't. No one makes you do anything."

"I do,"

"Don't do this," Castiel was pleading now. "You don't have to do any of this...You know that, right? You can just walk away. Take care of your war. Take care of your own frontline...Leave this plane. Please, Dean. I'm not asking you because I want to take Sam away. I'm only asking because this is beyond you. You have no idea what he's capable of...what he's going to do to you."

"I have to do this, angel. You know why," said Dean.

"You know I'll follow," said Castiel. "You know I'll follow you until I can't."

Dean stared deep into those blue eyes. "I know. I'm counting on that."

There was a loud, sudden snapping sound like a twig, breaking in half followed by a resounding cry of pain. It took Castiel a second to register that the sound was made by him and that it had ripped out of his chest in torrent. He crumbled in Dean's arms, curled away until Dean's arm loosened and he hit the ground, pulling the leg that Dean had shattered up to his stomach.

"Forgive me," All the charm vanished to be replaced with his usual guile. Dean gave a stunning smile to the beaten angel and turned away, plucking his sword off the ground on his way. Castiel found he couldn't speak, the pain was all consuming and the anger would come later. Instead he could only watch helplessly as Dean walked off, turning into a distant shadow in the smoke to a black dot that blended into the night.


	13. XIII

Castiel slowly pulled himself to his feet. The angel had no idea how long he was lying there. Maybe an hour. Maybe two. Who knew how far away Dean had gone by now? He tried to put weight on his leg and felt it tremble dangerously underneath him. He nearly stumbled and cursed Dean all the way. The demon was probably miles ahead by the high he was on from killing a human. His leg ached in pain and he stumbled towards the ruins of one of the two cars that were both smoking and full of the acrid smell of burnt rubber.

"Someone looks like they've been through a meat grinder. Twice," The voice made Castiel jump. Distorted as it sounded, it almost sounded like Dean had returned but then he detected the faint accent and the warmth that Dean seemed to lack.

Balthazar. The angel was a little taller than Castiel with spiky blonde hair. He was a bit older than Castiel in looks but not by much. He too wore similar armor except the edges of his was decorated with bronze. Balthazar was a few years Castiel's senior in paradise. He was among the first in creation after the Archangels though he had never attained that rank and more than likely never would. Balthazar was serious to a fault but he hated his superior officer more often than not for his own reason, usually always harping about honor. He was a field commander in every sense of the word. The go-to person when no General was available.

"Hello Balthazar," said Castiel, grunting as he struggled to stand up straight. But the angel placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back to lean against the car.

"What a mess here," said Balthazar, looking around. " It looks like a bomb went off here. What happened? Uriel explained that you were led to believe our prophesied child was in danger…and close by?"

"I fought a demon," said Castiel shrewdly. "and lost…and yes, I said that."

"That story had such a nice ring to it until the end," Balthazar mused. "Regardless. You should be happy. Apparently this mission requires the utmost priority. I got the cavalry coming."

"Define cavalry. You do realize we're dealing with the most powerful demon in the hell realm?" Castiel asked, bending his knee so the injury didn't hurt as much. Dean didn't just shatter his kneecap, he had torn the tissue in his thigh. And he had caught him off guard, succumbed to a forbidden kiss that should have never taken place. Castiel wanted to hit himself.

"Like I said, we got the cavalry coming," said Balthazar, though he didn't sound very pleased about it. In fact, he had made a face of disgust. "Yes...All's well that ends well when the 'backup' comes in. Is that correct human phrasing?"

Castiel looked at him very seriously. "Are you going through your 'cryptic' phase again?"

"No," Balthazar growled. He snapped his fingers and both cars disappeared leaving Castiel to crash painfully to the ground on his back.

"Not funny. This is all very painful for me," said Castiel, struggling back to his feet and grabbing Balthazar's offered hand.

"Bested by a demon a third your age, Castiel. Are you getting old?" Balthazar questioned curiously.

"It was that demon again?" A third voice joined them and Castiel was very suddenly pulled up to stand on his feet by none other than Uriel. Unlike his dream with the Anema, Uriel did not heal so well. Dean's afflictions were permanent, though he looked much better. A fraction of his left wing was missing and there were markings on his face where new patches of skin had tried to reform over the torn pieces. It was hard to look at without feeling a stitch in his chest. And it seemed like forever ago where Dean had done this to him.

A small white aura shrouded Uriel and Balthazar and Castiel was suddenly aware that he was the only among the three of them that wasn't invisible to human eyes. Oh well, he felt too tired to concentrate on keeping that spell up at the moment. If a human passed and saw him, wings tucked, he could merely assume he was crazy. Castiel wouldn't lose sleep over it...figuratively.

"That same one," Castiel replied after a moment, focusing on Uriel's eyes and not his grotesque features. He knew if it was him, he would detest the one who stared too long.

"There will be blood tonight, brother," said Uriel grimly, patting Castiel on the back. "We'll get this demon yet. I brought help this time. He won't escape our clutches."

When Castiel said that, he wondered vaguely how it would have been if Uriel had come with them. Well, first off, he'd share Merrick's view on the opposing race. They probably would have killed each other by now. And whereas Castiel did not like all of what Dean had done thus far, and didn't like Merrick at all, he wouldn't have relished killing either of them. Merrick moreso because it would anger Dean...not for any other reason really.

"That's reassuring, Uriel, thank you," Castiel replied remotely.

Uriel patted him on the back. "We'll get him. I brought us help."

In the form of a borderline rebellious Field Commander; Castiel eyed Balthazar and watched the angel approach the body of the dead girl that Dean had killed, collecting dust and debris from the wind.

" Looks like you had more fun than I thought on this mission, Castiel," Balthazar noted very seriously. He kneeled next to the girl, turned her over. "This girl's been tainted by dark Will. And drained of life. We need to purify her soul."

"Now why would we do that?" The three angels turned simultaneously and in the same unison, dropped down to their knees to kneel in respect(Castiel struggling more than the rest). Taller than all of them, the angel stood with blonde locks draped across his forehead that he nodded off to one side so they no longer covered his eyes. He had deep set brown eyes, a pointed nose and a very square jaw. Unlike Balthazar, Castiel or Uriel, this angel was not dressed like them. He wore a long black suit covered by a black overcoat that reached his ankles and polished black shoes.

"General, I had no idea you were coming," said Castiel to his good leg. "It's an honor to be in your presence."

The General waved a dismissive hand. "Let's skip out on the formalities. At ease, please."

The three of them rose with Castiel leaning on Balthazar for support. The General walked between them, eyes intent on the girl below. Castiel would have thought it was concern, but there was a strange type of malice glinting that he hadn't noticed before.

"If I had known you were coming, I might have better prepared my report,"

"There's no need for a report, Castiel," The General answered without looking at him. " I can surmise what happened here."

"That's good," said Castiel. Though he wasn't sure it was. The three angels backed away at the General's beckoning and he knelt down where Balthazar had just been,

"This girl was killed by a demon,"

"Yes," Castiel confirmed.

The general peered up at him. " and do we know what demon that was?"

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but the name died in his throat. The general wasn't known for his mercy. Not this one. Not with what the stories said about him.

He was waiting for Castiel to answer.

Castiel didn't know what made him do it, but he swallowed the name and shook his head.

For a long time, the General just stared at Castiel and then he saw a slow smile begin to spread. " Okay. Well there are other methods to figuring this out."

He turned back to the girl and placed a hand on her forehead. He imagined if the girl was alive, that hand would feel very cold. "Life lesson for you, boys. When a demon kills an innocent, it's a high crime. It's why you never see it happen. And let me tell you right now. It's never good decency that prevents a demon from killing a human. You know what it is? It's selfish act. Because we try to save them from their doom to hell through salvation and purification. But I understand now. Demons usually clean their messes up well...But not this one…and I believe it's high time, we played this fair."

They all watched with baited breath. Balthazar frowned and nearly seemed ready to turn away, one elbow resting on his palm with a hand covering his mouth in speculation.

"This demon was strong to leave such a lasting taint," The General noted, brushing the girl's golden curls aside and placing his palm flat on her forehead. Immediately, a fission of power left the General's hand and issued into the girl. Glowing gold and orange like a bolt of lightning. Her body quivered just a bit in response, showing life.

"Hold on a minute," Balthazar interrupted. "You can't resurrect a human killed by a demon. You know what that does to the human?"

The general shot him a look that said the answer was obvious. " What do you think happens? Have you seen it happen, commander?"

"She'll wake up a—" Balthazar began.

He was cut off by a loud gasp as the girl lurched forward and the general removed his palm from her forehead. Her eyes swiveled from each of them, dressed in strange attire and opened her mouth to scream.

"No," The General covered her mouth rather crudely and pulled her forward to sit up with his other hand. As the three of them watched, her features seemed to pale, her long blonde hair began to change in color to a bronzed color…her eyes changed to..

"One thing to note when a new demon is created through death, is that they take on some of the traits of the demon who killed them. So, pop quiz, Castiel, Uriel. What happens when you resurrect a human that was drained of life by a demon?"

Castiel didn't answer, none of them did, because the answer was obvious. Already the girl's body began to glow red as she unknowingly drew from the Will energy emanating off them: a demon's instinctual reaction to being threatened.

"No? Nothing? All right. Answer: A demon is created. Not just any kind of demon. Now, normally, demons are too stupid to create their own kind. You've seen the lot. Dumb as doornails. None of them know how to do it. But now the Imperial ranks. They know exactly how to create a demon. And they don't do it either aside from the obvious reasons of, oh I don't know, breaking the treaty and starting a war? But now, whoever made this demon? Stupid enough to leave the body intact and taint it with its power. So we're going to answer that demon's carelessness by giving him just what he wanted: a demon child."

"You just _created _a demon child," Balthazar remarked in disgust.

"No," said the General, holding up a finger to correct him. " I didn't. I just resurrected a human. How was I to know that it would create a demon child?"

He _did_ know. That's why he did it. Castiel shared Balthazar's revulsion. But Uriel seemed to be smiling an ugly smile at the girl like he was ready to consume her.

"Fascinating thing about demon children," The General struggled to continue muffling her, and the sounds of the girl were almost palpable while she struggled to escape. "They're rare. And this one even rarer because she was a pure heart. Have you ever seen a pure heart demon? Wouldn't it be interesting to see how she turns out? I digress. The best thing about demon children is that they develop a bond to their maker. A bond so strong…You could call it a parent/offspring bond, even…"

Castiel's jaw locked. "General, if I may ask-"

"Yes, Castiel. I know just what you're thinking. The bond, as it were, is so strong that the parent demon feels whatever the child is feeling. No matter where he or she is. No matter what he or she is doing. It, I should say. Demons hardly classify to a gender, right? Those nasty little hellspawn."

"I can't believe I just witnessed this," said Balthazar, turning away fully, running a hand through his hair in frustration as though he wanted no part of this any longer.

The General ignored him and stood upright with the gasping girl beneath him, coughing and sputtering from lack of air. "And if we're lucky…This baby demon is about to call out to her parent through shrieks of pain."

The General drew out his sword and before Castiel could even stop him, a bolt of lightning issued from the tip and struck the girl dead in the heart. He didn't have to feel it to know she was in agony the way she began to writhe and scream, thrashing her body about. It was the most sickening sight and angel had ever been born to witness.

* * *

><p>Far and away, the king had jumped far from where he left Castiel. He felt triumphant, but only a small pang of guilt for leaving Castiel behind. But he ignored that, set it aside. Once he had entered the town, everything felt easier. It was nighttime and the streets were packing with cars and the sidewalks crammed with people on their way from dinner or whatever business they were attending to.<p>

It didn't take long for him to hail a cab, and while Dean was in the car, he ignored the sidelong looks he was receiving from the taxi driver. Dried blood covered him, most of it his own, some of it the girl he had killed. Now, that. He didn't feel guilty for. Desperate times called for desperate measures. But he did feel bad about leaving the angel with a body to purify and send into Heaven in such a weakened state. He probably passed out from the pain and left the girl there. If that was the case, a soul would simply do what most of them did, roam this world in half forms, shadows and spirits of what they once were. Ghosts were what the humans called them.

Rose Manor was at the very north most part of the city and it was the tallest building there was. Calling it a mansion seemed insulting but perhaps it was only because that was what Rose Manor originally was before it was "colonized". On the surface it came off as a white house-like home with tall white pillars and a huge angelic fountain in the front of cupid striking his bow from the heavens. But on the inside was quite different.

It was a fortress, more or less. A housing for demons and only one occupant could command such a number of one hundred demons in one location.

And her name was Lilith.

Once the cab stopped Dean off at the manor, it drove off in a hurry, no doubt feeling the negativity that came from the King. But he paid him no matter after leaving an unmarked twenty-dollar bill inside the seat. He had overpaid. But he doubt the driver would notice, nor would he even find his payment until much later.

Dean knocked on the door once and waited, leaning against the doorway as the double doors opened up.

Truly a beauty that would shame all men. And she knew it too. The depictions of Lilith being a monster were all false. Demon: true. Hideous: no. She had flowing black hair that would have reached her back if she hadn't had it styled to hide behind an eccentric golden headdress that matched the golden and black ensemble she was already wearing, a tight golden shirt that seemed to shimmer and a black skirt. Nothing normal. Lilith had always been a lover of the ages and it seemed she had recently taken a liking to the Egyptians.

When she saw Dean, there were no words, she gravitated towards him and took his face between her hands, planting a firm kiss on his lips.

"About time, your Majesty...I was beginning to think you would never show up," Lilith mirrored the King's movement, leaning against the opposite doorway. "Come along now...Let's get you inside. I'm sure we have much to catch up on."

"Darling," Dean replied, licking his lips and following her inside.

"Butterfly," Lilith cooed. She closed the door behind her and was approached by a black haired demon with red eyes and a long black dress revealing too much in the front. The demon eyed Dean up and down like he was something unrecognizable. "Eris. Fetch the King some water, please."

Dean meanwhile, took in his surroundings in full detail, he looked to find the ornate grand hall with Egyptian sculptures everywhere and a grand staircase that lead to two different directions, much like the Temple of Light. Though this was much more prestigious. She had carvings on the walls of ancient hieroglyphics that meant nothing to no one in this place.

Hardly a fortress, but Lilith was known for her deception. One could say she was the master of it. This may have looked like a pretty manor for a spoiled little princess, but it was far from it. And just as Dean expected, he could feel the power emanting from it like a beacon. This was most definitely a stronghold.

"Egyptian now, Lily, really. Do you ever stay to the current age?" Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"I stay to my strengths, just as you, your Majesty," Lilith simpered, gliding away from him to stand at the head of her staircase, past an enormous statue of King Tut. "The Egyptians were primitive at best, but known for their ferocious ways. I tend to take a liking to such ferocity. It's quite rare in this day and age."

Dean smiled, shaking his head. "My you haven't looked more beautiful than you do right now, l'amour."

"Flattery gets you anywhere," said Lilith, tilting her head to one side and seeming to close in on Dean with just a look. Her smile disappeared. "You're not here for me, though. You're here for your guardian and the boy...They're right here, your Majesty. They're upstairs. The boy has been asking for you nonstop since they arrived. I tell him you're on your way and his hope has died little by little. If it were not for your guardian, he might have found you himself...And I do think he would have succeeded."

No doubt that as an allusion to the boy's power.

"Lilith-" Dean began, holding up a hand to ready an explanation.

But she silenced him as one of Lilith's demons returned with a glass of water and presented it to Dean on a tray. He took it, eying her curiously as she walked away. His attention was diverted for a moment.

"Your demon does not acknowledge me as its superior," said Dean quietly.

"My demon acknowledges everyone as its superior but itself," said Lilith vaguely as Dean finished off his glass of water and handed it to her.

"Where's Merrick and Sam?"

"Upstairs, like I said," said Lilith, gesturing behind her freely. "You're free to see them, Dean. I only pray that you keep in mind our main goal."

"Don't talk about praying, Lily. It spoils your good looks," said Dean as he passed her, stroking the side of her cheek as he passed and headed upstairs, stopping at the crossroads between the east and west wing.

"East Wing. Third door on your left, love," Lilith explained, pointing to the right side.

He passed demons on the way, all of them looked at him with a blank lost kind of look. What was worse was that these were Imperial ranks and they looked like Dean did with human features. These hallways were lit and each room was empty, though each one was a decorated bedroom with silk sheets, all empty. He wondered why she needed all this space when none of her demons occupied them.

Dean found Merrick standing outside the master bedroom at the end of the hall. The demon greeted the king with a bonecrushing hug.

"Long time no see, your majesty," said Merrick, reverting back to the formal as he released Dean who didn't return the embrace. "You look well for nearly dead, even the void couldn't hold you."

"The void…," Dean repeated sharply. "nearly killed me. But at least you got out safely and with Sam in tow."

"With our lives," Merrick corrected. "We nearly died in there. The Anema chased us to the very depths of his mansion while you went and played hero."

The look he gave Dean implied he knew everything or at least knew enough.

Dean blinked and some of the anger left his eyes. " Your oath entails that in the event that I'm not present, You're able to make your own choices…Leaving me behind however was not something I thought you'd ever do, however."

He had said it before to Castiel that he commended Merrick for taking the initiative. But now, after everything... He had been so delayed on getting here from the battle with the Anema, to the car crash. And now without a doubt, Castiel was calling for his friends. Time was short, and though his wounds had completely healed, the ghost of that pain remained inside as a reminder of how horrific the last few unfulfilling nights had been.

Before Merrick could answer, Dean placed a hand on his cheek and gripped the other demon rather hard, pinching the skin between his two fingers. "How bad was the hell you went through to escape, my friend? Did the Anema nearly slaughter you? Poison your Will and direly injure you so that you had to murder an innocent of life and drain her life force to sustain yourself? Did you fight the angel you fought to rescue and have him force your hand in an injury? Did a car _flip_..." Dean rattled him just a little at the word. "with you inside it?"

" You put this mission over everything, your Majesty. What would you have done in my situation? You honestly think I would have followed you back to rescue an angel from death? If he got himself captured through arrogance, you think I was going to risk this war for him?" Merrick lowered his voice and leaned closer. "This may be our only chance to do this, sire."

"Is he inside?" Dean asked, looking past his shoulder.

"He's there. He's waiting for you. He's been asking for you. Asking whether you had died. I told him we would have felt it if you had," said Merrick.

"Hm," said Dean thoughtfully, releasing Merrick and turning towards the door. He eyed the door and then turned around and paced a few steps away from it. "It's now or never, Merrick. Now or never, literally."

"Don't tell me," Merrick murmured, watching Dean walk like a hawk. "You told the angel. Did I miss something? Where is he? Downstairs sipping tea with the first demon?"

Dean barely glanced at him as he passed. " A minor problem in entire ocean of it. I left him incapacitated miles away."

"About time you came to your senses..," Merrick paused, gauging Dean's reaction. "I meant that with all due respect, of course."

"Of course," Dean repeated, stopping at the door. "Okay. I'm going in, Merrick. Guard the door."

Merrick caught his arm. "You know he doesn't suspect you for a mile, right? He still won't. Use that to your advantage."

"I know what I'm doing, thank you. Now stay here and keep guard. If anything happens, Merrick," and this time Dean leaned towards him. "Do not come in the room. Get Lilith and assemble the army in Hell. Do not come back for me. If this boy kills me…Merrick, you have full command of the armada. We have to prepare for war. And we have to strike when they're the most vulnerable."

"They're never vulnerable. Sire, all you have to-"

Dean yanked on his jacket. "Listen to me. As your King, I command you. Take the army to hell and assemble. Prepare for war."

Merrick stared at him for a long moment, then finally he swallowed deep and nodded. "Yes your Majesty."

"Good," Dean drew close and pressed his lips very briefly to the demon's forehead. "Take care."

Drawing in a deep breath and exhaling, Dean walked in. As soon as he did, he ignored the lavish gold surroundings, the master bedroom in every sense of the phrase. All he could focus on was the child that jumped off the bed and bounded towards him with his arms open ready for a hug. He caught Dean around the middle and squeezed hard.

"Dean! Dean! Dean! I missed you!" Sam cried out, squeezing tighter and speaking muffled into the folds of Dean's clothes. " Don't do that again. I was so worried about you. Merrick kept saying you would come back. Where's Castiel? Wasn't he with you? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry we left you there. I wanted to come back for you. I told Merrick you'd come back and you did. I'm so happy you're here Dean. Don't leave me again, please, please, please. "

"I'm fine, Sam," Though Dean wagered his appearance via clothing and skin tone didn't say it. His flesh felt strangely dry with blood caked on it. He returned the tight embrace however. "I'm just fine."

Sam looked up at him, resting his chin on Dean's jacket. "Are you sure? You were gone for so long."

"I know...But I'm here to keep you safe, Sam. It's not safe here. It's not safe anywhere...But tomorrow, I'm gonna get us out of here. We can't make a home out of this place, all right?" Dean knelt and took Sam by the shoulders, rubbing them firmly. "I promise to keep you safe. You remember that? I'm not going anywhere now."

He pulled Sam into his arms and took him over to the bed where the demon sat, holding the boy for the longest time. The demon's eyes seemed to take on a certain lost look. He rocked Sam gently to sleep. Rocking back and forth...trying and failing to keep his mind blank. His mind was blank when he killed the girl; he had deliberately made it that way. Because killing was something you couldn't afford to dwell on.

"Sing me a song, Dean," Sam yawned, laying his head on Dean's lap.

And there was no way to tell. That this was the greatest threat known to man. The boy certainly didn't know it. He was just a boy who was unluckily chosen by fate to bring about destruction that he could never truly understand.

And he had to kill him. Because he was a political figurehead for Hell, controlling a realm that couldn't think for themselves without a leader. It was a foolish notion to want what was best for Hell when Hell was a chaotic realm to begin with, created in the image and despair of an angel scorned as punishment. Hell was punishment all around, but without balance, without the hell realm doing what it was meant to do, they were exactly what everyone else expected them to be.

A warring nation bent on destroying heaven and failing.

He had to kill this boy to end this war. To stop several from happening in the wake of it.

There was so much love in Sam's expression just now. It was the worst thing to see before ending a life.

But it was impossible to do this now. Not while his mind swirled with thoughts and words.

Dean stared forward at the carpet, letting his vision begin to blur with the inner corners of his eyelids beginning to prickle. Slowly, a hand released Sam to reach behind him. He took a hold of the hilt of his sword and felt his fingers coil painfully into the steel until his palm turned red from the pain. This was the best way, wasn't it? He would never see it coming.

"_Dean," _The voice of his Father echoed strong and true in his mind. _"Keep this as a life lesson. To love is to be weak. Never hold an attachment to anything other than yourself. Not me, not this throne you will one day attain. Nothing is worth destroying yourself over. Once you let love consume you, it will **never **go away."_

He couldn't think now. Not with these words in his mind. Dean let the boy fall asleep on his lap and covered his face with a hand. He should do it now. Now and no other time. Now or never. Now or never. Now or never.

"_You're our savior. As a token of my gratitude...I, the demon will grant you one wish."_

Now or never.

"_I want you to **stay **with me."_

"_Be my friend. Stay with me forever."_

"_There's no **real **reason to deny you."_

"_So you will?"_

"_Nothing more needs to be said on this, Sam. I say yes. I'm here now."_

"_Did you break my talisman, Dean?"_

"_...With me around, nothing bad is going to happen to you."_

"_Sam, I made you a promise to stay with you forever. Do you ever think I'd go back on it?"_

"_No...I don't think that."_

"_Good. Then, do you trust me?"_

"_I trust you, Dean."_

"_Has it occurred to you that this boy **loves **you? Has it occurred to you that an attempted assassination by **you** of all people might just drive Sam to be the one thing you hope he doesn't become?"_

Now or never.

His eyes closed as the last tear drop fell in the boy's hair, unseen and forgotten. Very slowly, Dean's hand unclenched from the sword and his hand dropped loose by his side. Not now. Never this life.

Just as Dean began to face the gravity of his decision. He felt a steady sting on the back of his head like something had pricked him. He didn't even have time to make a sound before a searing, white hot pain exploded inside his mind out of nowhere. Dean's lips parted in a soundless scream as he lurched forward.

"Dean?" Sam raised his head and watched as Dean continued his fall, sliding off the bed, holding his temples with both hands. "Dean! What's going on? Dean? Dean? What's happening to you? Answer me!"

"Fuuuuck," Dean gasped. The pain overshadowed everything, pounding like a battering ram and pulsing like a heart. All of his thoughts became jumbled, spreading out like a tidal wave being forcibly split. A new image came forth, but it was only a flash. A lonely side of some dirt road that looked vaguely familiar. Then the pain returned in full force.

"Merrick!" Sam screamed in desperation. Sam swam out of focus for Dean, and all he could see was the occasional, deep blackness that began to dwarf his mind. "Merrick! I can't help him! Something's wrong. Help him!"

The sound of a door being blasted open was barely heard for Dean as he fell backwards onto his back. He couldn't fight it. Summoning up all of his Will, it only seemed to drain it. He had enough of that. No, he had to go back. Whatever it was had put it in him.

Merrick's hands were too warm on his wrists as he pressed down, seeming to hold Dean in place.


	14. XIV

The pain had stopped. For now. The girl turned over on her front and panted into the ground, holding her body just barely by pressing her palms to the concrete. She couldn't look at them, it wasn't positive she could see at all anymore.

The General withdrew his sword but didn't sheath it. "Strange. A powerful and uncaring demon. Now, normally, parental instincts are quite strong. A demon should rush back when their child is in danger. Perhaps we should up the ante." He raised his weapon high and prepared to plunge again.

"Maybe we should not," Balthazar suggested. "While I honestly don't mind that demons are in pain because of eachother…"

"Yes, Commander?" The General stood upright, standing much taller than Balthazar. "Is there a problem? Don't sell yourself so seriously. These are demons. They know nothing better than pain."

"Less than an hour ago, this girl was a human. And she knew nothing more than her own life before we interfered," Balthazar pointed out.

Keeping his eyes trained on Balthazar, the General drew out a small brown pouch and upturned it after removing the cork, letting the liquid drop onto the squirming girl. "Less than an hour ago, I still didn't care about one human life, same as the demon who made her."

He snapped his fingers and immediately a fire sprang and set her ablaze. She screamed and writhed through the pain and begged him to stop. Just as Castiel stepped forward the General held up a hand to stop his protests.

"A demon can heal. Stop feeling bad," The general ordered. While the girl thrashed and thrashed about. Blood poured out of open wounds. "Keep watch. He or she might just appear."

But he didn't. He wouldn't either. He wasn't stupid, despite what the General might have assumed about him. He was the strongest demon in the rank and as far as the General knew, he was just a stupid demon of Imperial Rank that more than likely wouldn't put it past him to turn down a challenge.

"He won't come, general. He's not stupid," Castiel voiced out loud.

The General peered at Castiel with renewed interest and ceased his fire spell which rendered the demon girl sobbing in a little ball, covered in black burns and black smoke. "Is that so? What makes you think a demon can classify as intelligent?"

"Because he's planning to kill what we want. I don't think he'd come back for his child even if she was burning alive, given the importance. If he knows what the boy represents, why would he stop now?"

The General approached Castiel, drew eerily close and nodded slowly. "You just reminded me of something, Castiel. A demon wouldn't stop If he was smart, like us…So we resort to our final measure."

He extended a hand over the girl's body. " So what's your name before we part ways, my darling?"

"My name is Carmen. Please, I don't know anything…Please stop hurting me…," The girl whimpered in fear as skin began to close over her burns at a rapid rate and her hair began to retain it's normal color.

"You're not a normal girl anymore, Carmen. You're a demon. You were created by a very powerful demon. He's your new Daddy," said the General. The way he said it was like it was some sort of thing to be proud of. Castiel could see Balthazar shaking his head from the corner of his eye, still refusing to stand close to them, to take part in this.

"I'm a…I'm a what?" The girl was sobbing. Tear tracks rolled down her cheeks. "I'm not…I'm…"

"You would never have healed at your rate if you hadn't been drawn to the Will energy that we and the demons utilize,"

She ran her eyes over the general, over Uriel and then the injured Castiel and crawled away using her palms on the dirt. " Who are you guys? What are you people? Some... kind of freakshow?"

"We're…You know what? I don't have time for this," said the General, kneeling down and taking a handful of her hair. "I will rip you apart piece by piece and send all of your parts to the one who made you. The one who killed you. You're going to give me his name now. What is his name. Speak the name of the one whom you have joined. Name him."

"For the love of Father, General," Balthazar snapped. "She's not going to tell you. She won't be able to until she meets him. I took no pleasure in watching a demon being created today but watching you torture one into insanity is not really something I planned on sitting through."

"Do you have a better idea, Commander?"

"I saw we kill her," Uriel suggested. "If we kill her, won't it kill the demon who made her?"

"Unfortunately, no," said the General solemnly as though he was denied a real treat. "It _might_ greatly weaken the demon who created her but it will not kill him. And that entails having a great bond between the two of them...So, we want him dead, and if we're to do that, we need to find him ourselves."

"I do have a better suggestion, actually," Balthazar stepped forward, wrapped his fingers around Carmen's arms and pulled her up to stand, then he pushed her so she staggered a bit. "Go. Run. We have no use for you."

She stared at Balthazar for half a second then turned and bolted. If she was given the opportunity to escape, she may as well take it.

"That was your better idea?" The General asked. "Really? Sending her off to become a bonafide hellspawn? Very nice, Balthazar. Now we have to go get her."

He began to walk and Balthazar caught up to him. "You taught us your life lesson about parent running to their child's rescue. Didn't work, did it? Now we follow. If a parent's instinct fails, we can count on a newborn running to their parent. Give her the headstart and we'll follow."

The General gawked at him disdainfully, then slowly the red anger faded off his face and he smiled approvingly. "Not bad, Commander. Not bad at all."

* * *

><p>"Lilith! Get in here," Merrick snapped disrespectfully. "The King is not well. I need you in here NOW!"<p>

She took her sweet time, but when Lilith arrived, she glided inside and took a good look at Dean writhing in the floor before floating over and standing over Merrick's shoulder. "Oh my. He does not look well at all, now does he?"

"What's happening to him?"

"Is he going to be okay?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Should be. As long as the girl is okay," She knelt down and touched his neck. "His color is returning. He should be just fine."

"As long as who is okay?"

"As long as the girl," Lilith repeated slowly. "is all right. He should be fine. Otherwise he would be weakened considerably."

"What girl are we even talking about?" Merrick growled. "This is why I hate talking to the Ancients. They think we're all supposed to get what the hell they're talking about. Throwing out prophecies and propaganda."

"The girl that Dean made," Lilith clarified icily. She shook Dean's shoulder. "Your Majesty, are you awake? You didn't even tell me you created your own child. I'm so proud of you. When do I get to meet her? Are you going to go to her now or shall we go together?"

Dean suddenly calmed and took a deep breath. All his awareness of the world around him returned and he focused in on Lilith, taking in her last words. " A what…A demon child?"

"Why yes. A reaction like that only comes when a child is dying…I've made so many since…Hmm..I've just made so many. I know that reaction anywhere. The innate power bond between parent and child is so strong, it breaks through the emotional bonds and straight to the physical."

Dean struggled to sit up. "I didn't make a demon child."

"Your highness, with all due respect-"

**Knock. Knock. Knock.**

The knocks came loud and echoed throughout the entire manor. All four of them simultaneously turned towards the bedroom door and heard the loud screams of the girl behind the door.

"Someone please help me! Someone! PLEASE HELP ME!"

Lilith smiled. "Oh my, she sounds feisty."

Merrick turned his head slowly towards Dean. "You said you murdered an innocent of life. Tell me something, your highness, did you happen to leave that body where you left that angel behind, perchance?"

Realization slowly dawned on Dean and he went as pale as he had before. "…Oh no."

"Don't you say it. Don't you dare fucking say it. You left him there with an angel to resurrect her. ...Oh my Lord... Jesus Christ...God in Heaven," Merrick turned away, hands in his black hair in frustration. What looked handsomely unkempt was in complete disarray as he tugged and pulled on the strands.

"This is his way of using profanity," Dean said on the side to Lilith and Sam.

"YOUR HIGHNESS," Merrick yanked the King back to reality. "How could you! How could you be so careless? I _told_ you that angel wasn't trustworthy! I _told_ you he was going to turn on you!"

"Is someone going to be a dear and answer the door for me?" Lilith asked to no one in particular.

Dean ignored her and struggled to his feet. "Yes, you said it the whole time. But keep in mind that an angel of his level would have difficulty resurrecting a human."

"You put so much faith in this angel, and he brings you back a demon child. And probably tried to kill it so you could feel it too," Merrick thumped him on the chest painfully. "Understand this, your Majesty. He tried to kill you! He probably would have succeeded back in the Temple of Light!"

"YOU WERE NOT THERE!" Dean boomed and with such authority that the room seemed to silence except for the distant knocks of the girl. "And he would NOT do that."

Merrick spoke up first, barely above a whisper. "You put your faith in your pet over me."

"I put my faith in many things above you, Guardian," Dean retorted spitefully. He clutched at the stitch in his chest. "I'm still in a lot of pain...the ghost of it has not yet waned...Lilith, answer her. Bring her to me."

"Oh, so that's no on anyone but me getting the door," said Lilith; the look on Dean's face showed he wasn't kidding nor in the mood for jokes. She turned on her heel and left the room.

"Let's go...It doesn't do any good for us to linger here,"

"Sam, go on ahead. I need a word with my king," Merrick told the boy, patting him on the back.

"Dean, are you going to be okay?" Sam asked, staring up at him.

"I'll be fine, Sam," Dean reassured, ruffling Sam's hair. "Go on."

As soon as Sam disappeared, Merrick rounded on Dean again for the second time but the king held up a hand to stop his protests. "I know what this is about."

"You didn't do it," Merrick commented.

Dean turned away, faced the draperies that covered a window. "I didn't...because I couldn't. He's just a child...Cas was right...Killing him would draw him to become the very thing I fear."

"Oh, don't tell me," Merrick sneered. "You told the angel everything about this, didn't you? So now let me guess. Not only did he possibly create a demon child for you to weaken from. But now he knows about the whole mission?"

"Castiel didn't want me to go through with it, Merrick," said Dean quietly.

"And why do you think that is, your majesty? He wants to take him to Heaven," said Merrick. "It's been his agenda this whole time. Why can't you just accept that they're our enemy? The Fallen have it right, my liege. They are NOT our allies. They are our enemies and they would kill us all to prove it so and laugh over our corpses."

When Dean didn't say anything, Merrick continued ruthlessly. "They killed your Father right before your very eyes and you fight to prevent the second coming of a war? You were pompous when you took the throne, all those centuries ago and now this is all about your ego-"

"I DON'T NEED TO JUSTIFY MYSELF TO YOU," Dean roared, catching Merrick off guard with his velocity and holding him against the wall by the neck with his sword drawn and the tip pointed at his guardian's throat, voice issuing out in a menacing growl. "...It's about balance. It's about peace. _This_ is what my Father raised me to uphold. And I will _die_ before I see it reduced to ash because of our species' arrogance. Do I make myself clear?"

Merrick did not resist nor even grab Dean to prevent his grip from tightening. "You would let the boy live and see our realm reduced to ash instead? They're going to use him...and they're going to kill us."

A flicker of scarlet passed Dean's eyes. "Have some faith in me, Guardian...That's not going to happen. Not while I'm alive."

He dropped Merrick and just in time, Lilith, Sam and a third figure stood in the door. The mousy girl that Dean had killed earlier looked him square in the eyes, but when Dean looked upon her, she looked away as though she was ashamed. He felt a twinge of guilt that he had to bury down.

"This is the one?" Dean asked, stepping forward and approaching the girl more fully. She immediately burst towards him in a sprint and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly and burying her face in his chest. He was staggered from the impact, but uncertainly wrapped his arms around her and patted her back. Her clothes felt hot underneath a jean jacket and pink t-shirt. They had tears in them that indicated evidence of a fierce struggle or fight.

"Yours, as it were," said Lilith.

"Please. You have to help me. They're coming back for me. Please, just take me home. I want to go home. I want to go home. Make it all go away," Carmen whispered into his shirt. "They're coming back for me. They said I was...They...said...they said I was a..."

"Who's they?" Dean asked.

"Did they tell you you're a demon?" Merrick rubbed his neck and straightened up, frowning.

"They said...," She glanced at Merrick then clung to Dean even tighter. "I just want this nightmare to end. I...I...think I have a family waiting for me...Don't I?...Someone. Someone's waiting for me, I know it! I just want to go home. Please take me home?"

Her words came out confused, like she wasn't sure.

"You're holding onto home, sweetpea," Lilith interjected. "And there won't be a _someone _waiting anywhere. All you have is what you see."

"Wh...What?" Carmen murmured.

"All I got from her downstairs was that her name is Carmen," Lilith explained. "But I have no doubt she was just tortured before her wounds began to heal."

"I can't believe you made a demon," scoffed Merrick, rolling his eyes as he passed.

"I didn't do it intentionally," Dean snapped.

"I'm starting to wonder what 'they' means," Lilith commented in retrospect.

"Congratulations, sweetheart. You're the new Crown Princess for the throne of Hell. How's it feel?"

"I'm the what?"

"Who's they?" Dean asked, ignoring Merrick's comment.

"I said…You're the crown princess of-"

"MERRICK!" said Dean sharply. "Focus. Carmen. Who's they?"

"I don't know who they were," said Carmen, her lower lip trembling. "I didn't get their names…But they…They were dressed like…in armor. Silver armor…There was a black haired one…A dark skinned one…one in bronze colored armor and…there was this man in black."

The three demons exchanged looks.

"Angels," mused Lilith.

"Angels," spat Merrick.

"Damn it," said Dean.

"If they're coming here. There's only one thing they want," Lilith noted with a sideglance at Sam.

"They're here for him," said Dean bluntly, nodding to Sam. Both Lilith and Merrick raised their eyebrows. "He should be aware of the situation. Sammy, listen to me."

"Dean, what's going on? What are you talking about? Are we going to see Cas again?" The boy asked.

The honest answer was probably yes. "Cas is bringing some friends and they're not nice, Sammy. You're going to stay in this room. Merrick is going to stay with you."

"Merrick is not. Nope. Order denied, your Majesty," Merrick interjected crudely, grabbing Dean's shoulder and pulling him down a few inches so they were of the same height. He lowered his voice in a fast hiss, fast enough that no one else could hear, but low enough so Dean alone could hear. "I pledged my life to keep you alive in the past. Now that the exceptions are out of the way, I'm pledging my life for you and you alone."

All in one breath. Dean pursed his lips and then looked at Sam with a slight incline of his head. "Change of plans, Sam. I'm staying in this room with you. And so is Carmen. You." He changed his demeanor instantly, snapping his fingers in her direction. "Sit down. Don't move."

She obeyed instantly, walking straight to the bed and sat down, remaining unmoving and still as a statue.

Dean turned to Lilith." Assemble your army to the door."

Lilith crossed her arms. "What army is that, your Majesty?"

Dean crossed the threshold to stand face to face with her. "The one you've assembled here. Don't tell me..."

"The demons aren't prone to assemble in one location, your majesty. At most I have three Imperial class demons within these walls other than you two. And that's not nearly enough to take on Loyalist angels."

"I ordered you to assemble at Rose Manor when I left the Hell Realm. I ordered you to bring your army,"

"In case you haven't noticed. I'm not royalty. You are. The demons look for you, they don't all answer to me, butterfly," said Lilith. "But if you're so fussed, we can hold the line ourselves.."

"Conjure a magic barrier," Dean ordered. "And Lilith? Hold it in place. Merrick, stall them. Once you've got them all occupied, I can take Sam out of here. If you have to, convince them you've gone rogue and you know nothing about what they seek."

"What the hell kind of ploy is that? They're following Carmen. They know she's here,"

"They probably don't know what demon made her,"

"So much faith in your black haired, blue-eyed friend," said Merrick disapprovingly. "Really now. This is getting ridiculous."

Dean held up a finger to silence him. "Go."

As Merrick and Lilith left, Dean turned to the two of them and blinked hard. "They're coming. I can feel them."

"You can feel them…Oh God…I've enlisted with more psychopaths…I just…I just want to go home. Let me go home. I have nothing to do with this anymore,"

Within a flash, Dean was in front of her, holding her face between his hands and locking eyes with her. "Have you looked in the mirror since you left your angel friends back there? You don't look like yourself, anymore. You look like me. You know why?" He pulled gently on a lock of hair. "Because you're a part of me now. You're a demon. You're a freak. You joined the club. You heard Merrick back there? You're the heir to my throne. Do you know who I am?"

"No…," said Carmen slowly.

"I am…," Dean faced down at her lap, eyes closed for just a moment before raising his gaze to meet hers. His eyes were a blaze of orange rimming the green and his skin had taken shade of dark red. "I am the Alpha and Omega. The end and final justice between mankind and demon. And you, my darling…are the prodigy of both."

"Get away from me!" Carmen screamed, scooting herself into the bed and covered up with the blanket as though that prevented the truth from showing.

"You were just burnt alive and you still think this is a nightmare?' Dean asked, running a hand through his hair and looking around for Sam, finding the boy peering out the window.

"Dean, look," The boy said when Dean looked over.

Dean walked towards him, pushed the drapes aside. "Ah…Haha…Let the games begin."


	15. XV

Uriel was the first to storm Rose Manor. Such was the orders given by an eccentric leader like the General. He charged forward, sword drawn at the ready. But what he found was nothing but the vast emptiness of what looked like an abandoned museum. So much for a fortress. He raised his sword forward. "Come out, demons. I will rend you asunder."

"Dibs on the dumb one who spoke first," came the sneer of Merrick from the head of stairs. Uriel's gaze met his and he spotted the golden fitted demon next to him. The two of them looked entirely too casual for the situation , standing at the head between two more staircases leading left and right. Merrick...and another, a female. She coolly leaned against Merrick's shoulder with her other hand on her hip. Her face was vaguely familiar but his eyes narrowed more so on Merrick.

"You!" He called, almost accusingly.

"Long time no see, babycakes," Merrick remarked. "And damn the days have not been great for you, have they?"

"If you are here. _He_ must not be far, hmm?" Uriel pointed his sword at the pair. "Tell me, Guardian...How much do you think I've read up on you? You're the King's Guardian. Second only to the king himself. I didn't need Castiel to tell me who you two were when we encountered each other. You're the Guardian Force in Hell. 'Protect the King, even at the cost of my life.' Is that your oath? Tell me...Is he here?"

"The King and I went separate ways when he decided to make a few immoral decisions over the rational ones. I'm just here for a cup of tea, which you're interrupting,"

Uriel smiled. "It's a shame you have to die in this deserted home, Merrick. I understand it's a great honor to die at the feet of royalty."

A muscle in Merrick's jaw twitched and he stepped down the stairs. "If you've read so much about me, then you know I've never let an angel walk away from me unscathed. I served Lucifer. I served the Prince, now the King. And each time, my orders were simple."

As he looked at Uriel, the words seemed to echo with the voice of two others. Dean's husky whisper, Lucifer's cold tones. "Kill them all."

Uriel didn't wait even a second. He slashed the air and no more than five ice crystals, sharp as daggers burst through his blade straight towards Merrick's throat. Just like the first time he had engaged him in the S Prefecture. This time, Merrick didn't vanish, but jumped aside so he was standing carefully on top of the stair ledge, knees bent, eyes forward like a a hawk watching it's prey.

"You're fast. Faster than I imagined. But speed cannot help you all times. Ice is not my only element," said Uriel, raising a hand, with the palm glowing gray. He whipped his hand forth and a mini whirlwind of ice appeared. An ice storm, fueled by the treacherous winds of a mini-tornado. Merrick's eyes alight with the coming challenge, merely smiled.

The view of Merrick was so briefly obscured before he sliced through the ice storm, and Jumped behind Uriel catching his blade there so the angel was held awkwardly, blocking Merrick by the sword with two hands and leaving his front completely exposed.

Merrick kicked him in the back and broke the lock, watching Uriel fall forward ungracefully as he twirled his sword once and held it at the ready.

Uriel sent another burst of ice towards his opponent but Merrick merely turned his head to one side to avoid it, catching Lilith's bored gaze in the process.

"Are you getting tired over there, Princess? Don't tell me you were expecting more fight out of a grunt,"

Lilith yawned dramatically. "Hurry up. This place feels too violated with an angel present."

Merrick laughed. "Don't worry, darling. I was just looking for more ways to impress you."

Furious, Uriel charged him with a storm of hacks from his blade that were easily parried and countered. Not nearly as fast as Dean but close enough. Merrick had his age to fall back on and when Uriel had carelessly exposed a weak spot in his defense by gearing up for a plunge, Merrick zipped around him and the two were back to back once more.

"Tell me something. Are we planning on getting on with it any time soon? I have a show at four,"

"Damn you!" In a last ditch attempt, Uriel tried to power up his Will and utilize the wind element to throw Merrick off.

"Pathetic. Two elements at once makes you think you've defeated me?" Merrick elbowed Uriel in the back of the head, breaking his concentration and making the angel lurch forward, spitting blood. Uriel staggered and turned, holding up his sword to prep for the assault but Merrick surprised him again with a rapid body slam that sent him flying into a nearby pillar.

Uriel slipped against it, starting to slide to the ground just as Merrick gave him no time to recover and pressed his boot down on the angel's back, flattening him completely. He raised his boot again and this time very gently placed the heel against the back of Uriel's throat. If he wanted, he could crush him and tear all the nerves in his neck apart.

"No...No...," Uriel managed to gasp.

"I'm doing you a massive favor, celestial. You can't walk around looking like this. You'll scare the children worse than I ever could," Merrick sneered.

Whatever Uriel's response was came out unintelligible. His voice was disrupted and came out garbled.

"At least give me a challenge next time," Merrick snarled, slowly applying pressure until he heard the the loud crack of bone being crunched. The angel's body was engulfed in brief light before a stain of black wings etched underneath his back and into the marble. Blinking white and blue light began to slowly rise from the body and Merrick moved to absolve the sustainable Flame.

"Stand down," A new voice came in and both Lilith and Merrick looked towards the door where the new angel walked in. It was Balthazar. Merrick's moment of hesitation caused the will magic to disappear altogether.

Merrick didn't move, and he didn't remove his foot from Uriel's neck either. "You're next? Give me five seconds and I'll be right with you."

"Uriel was hardly worth the paperwork.. He was stupid and careless and hardly considered soldier-class by your standards...And he asked for this...Though disrespecting what you've already triumphed over is hardly very sportsman-like," said Balthazar dismissively.

" Sportsmanship? This one threatened me before and you can see from his fucking face it didn't end well for him the first time. He never had a shred of honor. Now, like I said. Back off and I'll be with you in hot minute."

Merrick raised his foot for emphasis and just as he stomped down with all the strength he could muster as a show of power. His sense of victory was short-lived however. Balthazar was quicker than the human eye could perceive. Merrick anticipated. He had barely looked down when the angel rushed him and pushed him into the air. Time seemed to slow as Merrick went through a pillar on his way to Lilith's feet.

"He's fast," The demon muttered, using his palms to support his stand.

"You think?" said Lilith sarcastically.

"You must be Merrick," Balthazar commented mildly. Then his gaze shifted to Lilith. "And Lilith...Your reputations precede you both. Under normal circumstances, I might continue such idle banter. But as it is, I have my orders to detain the Exile that you protect."

Even now, in the face of demons, he didn't look pleased when he said it.

"I want you to feel like this is fair...So who shall I challenge first?"

Before Merrick could speak, Lilith spoke up. "You're Balthazar. The Demon Destroyer. You killed hundreds of demons during the siege of the Palace. You led the ground troops into battle against the Prince and lost."

"Your tabloids are so cruel," Balthazar smiled, edging away from Uriel to approach the end of the stairs. "We retreated..I know a _lost _battle when I see one." He glanced at Uriel's body. "Though I cannot say the same for my comrades."

"Then you _understand _know who I am," Lilith walked ahead of Merrick, eyes narrowed upon the angel. "The first demon. The one Lucifer created in his own image. You cannot possibly hope to challenge me in my own domain. Your comrade lost the duel and failed to kill the Guardian. Under the rules of engagement, he deserved to die."

"Uriel was a fool. I will give him that," Balthazar conceded grudgingly. "But the fault and blame for his lack of foresight is not his. He was given an order. Which I believe unfair. Now that the odds are slightly more reasonable, perhaps we can come to fair play. The treaty states-"

Lilith interrupted him with a cold laugh. "We all know that that treaty became _null and void_ the moment you stepped foot in this realm with the intent to kill. We're not fools. Arrogant, tainted as we are in the eyes of your kind."

Balthazar frowned, measuring her words. " I can see there is no reasoning with you. Then we have no choice but to do this so uncivilly?"

Lilith's reply was laced with venom and hatred. "You besmirch the land of my Father with your presence here. Paradise Rock is mine. And I will not tolerate your presence here any longer. Leave now, and you may walk away unscathed."

"Leave? I think not..? We just got here," Dead silence followed these words. Balthazar looked over his shoulder to find the General standing in the doorway. Castiel was nowhere in sight. It was the mere presence of the angel that had them all looking but it was Lilith who made the first sound, a sharp intake of breath. "Hate to be a pest...but time is short."

"You can play footsie with a Guardian Demon later, Commander," said the General, nodding Balthazar back to his side as he eyed Merrick and Lilith.

"Raphael," said Lilith slowly.

The General smiled in response, taking a bow. "Happy to recognize my own introduction. It's a pleasure, Lilith. I haven't seen you since before that snotty child decided to make war."

"You have some nerve walking in here...Archangel,"

At this, Merrick looked startled. "Archangel?"

Lilith lowered her voice to a whisper. "Don't let the snarky attitude fool you. He's nothing like the one you just faced. Archangels are Gods on the mortal realm."

Astute of hearing, Raphael smiled. "You're not unwise for being cautious, Lilith." He walked half a line across the entrance hall. "But you can save yourself a world of anguish if you just tell me where the Exile is. And who is guarding him. Your alternative is a very...very painful death."

Lilith laughed. "I know my limits, Archangel. And I will never betray my kind. My loyalty is to the throne and it always will be."

"Regrettable," Raphael shook his head and sighed. "But not unforeseen. Death, it is."

He was too fast for any eye to catch. Lightning in the eye of the storm. He caught Merrick with one hand, a crabclaw grab with nails digging into each part of his skull. His grip was tight enough to bring the angel forward and slam his knee into the demon's ribcage, shattering it to pieces and collapsing one lung. The demon howled in pain, spit out blood just as Raphael slammed an elbow into his back with a sickening crunch, snapping his spinal cord in two.

Merrick couldn't even scream before Raphael let him go, let him wobble on his feet for a moment before he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Both of Merrick's legs broke by the knees and he fell backwards.

Balthazar took a step back in revulsion, crossing his arms and turning away from the scene.

"And you call yourself a Guardian, Imperial? All I asked for was a name and a location and you die for both," Raphael scoffed, holding his palm over Merrick's head. "I feel this is a mercy kill if I take your life now. You, who have killed so many of my own...Pathetic. I've never been known for my mercy, however. And I won't be making an exception for you, buttercup. Live with your pain."

He tilted his head as he turned to Lilith. She hadn't even flinched while Merrick was being taken down. Or made a run for it. Her eyes remained sharp on her target, and she held up her head in defiance.

Which gave for the perfect opportunity. Raphael seized her by the throat and lifted her high into the air, his fingertips coiling further with every passing second. "You were so much more beautiful when you were in Paradise. Hellfire has tainted the pretty demon. But like father, like daughter..."

He squeezed; she gasped.

"Any last words?" breathed Raphael hungrily. "I'm dying to hear them..."

"_Go to Hell_. How's that?"

Raphael's lip curled while he slowly began to completely cut off her windpipe. White lightning began to curl around his back towards Lilith, beginning to feed off her Will power.

"General!" Balthazar called, breaking out of his reverie. "In the event that our prey has escaped. We may need prisoners. I advise we leave them alive."

"I have no use for unintelligent hellspawn," said Raphael.

"I do. I know how to pry information," Balthazar approached. "Let her down, General. She's no good to us dead and we've wasted enough time."

There was a moment while Raphael considered this. Then very slowly and with deliberation, Raphael released her and Lilith collapsed, coughing and choking, massaging her neck where he had held.

"Very well,"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Dean was searching the room frantically. Aside from the massive king-sized bed, it looked more like a study than anything else with a desk and bookshelves behind it, a globe. He observed it all, much to the puzzling of Sam and Carmen. This place really wasn't a bedroom as much as it was a study. The right side had a desk and several bookshelves. The left side had more shelves with various antiques and silverware. There was even a globe here. Dean wondered why she had a need for all this junk.<p>

"Can I ask what it is you're doing?" Carmen asked.

Dean gave her a quick glance before returning to his search, checking under the bed. "I'm looking for an escape route. I know there's one here that leads underground."

"Have you been here before?" Sam asked.

Dean scratched his head. "Many times. I was brought here the day I was born by Lucifer for my 'christening'." He air quoted that last word. "But I digress. That's too long to remember where the hell she put it."

"Where she put what?" Carmen asked.

"Who's she?" Sam followed up.

" Lilith and that damn trigger mechanism," said Dean shrewdly, eying the books with disdain. "Can someone explain to me why Twilight is one of the books here?"

He pulled it out of the shelf and tossed it over to Carmen. "Here. Read that. Dream of pasty white men that remind you of Colgate Toothpaste." He turned his cheek and batted his eyelashes at her. "That way when you brush your teeth, you'll always think of me."

She rolled her eyes at him and tossed the book aside, getting up. "Shouldn't you be helping your friends?"

"I already told you," Dean began, checking under the desk. "They're not friends. They're servants. They serve me…Or now…us. They can handle a few angels, I'm sure without my help."

"Oh, I get it," said Carmen, crossing her arms and leaning to the side. "You're afraid."

"I'm _afraid?" _Dean repeated. "Please, woman. I've done things you can't even imagine…And if you're not going to help me, then don't say anything at all, if you please."

But Carmen's attention was already diverted to a statue of an angel in the corner. "Why is this here if you're all demons?"

Dean briefly looked to where she was looking as he gestured Sam over to him. The boy waddled over and Dean lifted him up under his arms to place him on the topmost empty shelf. "Let me know if you see a switch or something."

"Hello?" Carmen pointed at the statue. "What's this doing here?"

Dean walked over, looking slightly annoyed as he joined her near the statue. An angel with short curly hair, a toga and sage-like eyes the same color of the stone he was made from. "That's Lucifer."

"The Devil?" Carmen stared up at the serene statue.

"My Father," Dean amended.

Carmen stared at Dean's face as she asked. "Is it a very good likeness?"

'Yeah…," Dean murmured, closing his eyes to perceive the real thing in motion, taking a hold of his face as he often did with affection. "…Hmm…."

"He's beautiful," said Carmen.

"He's dead," Dean commented, turning away from the statue. "And what is with your new questions? A second ago, you were a blubbering mess of tears and other annoying sounds."

"I don't know," Carmen replied. " I feel…much better, actually. Like…Like it doesn't really matter anymore. I feel…. some kind of attachment to you. Like as long as you're here, I'll be fine…and everything else kind of comes secondary, you know?"

Dean's face didn't change during that little speech; he only blinked and kept walking back across the room where Sam was, placing his hands on his hips. "That's your humanity being destroyed. Human emotion begins to decay when your soul is devoured by the darkness."

Carmen yawned and sat back down on the bed, swinging her legs. "I don't think it's the 'darkness'. You don't have to sound so negative."

"It's the truth, whether you choose to believe it or not. New demons are the most annoying things in the world, and that's coming even after Celestials," Dean told her. "Most of them die inside a month without a parent demon taking the initiative to raise them properly."

"Are _you_ my parent demon?" Carmen asked.

"Unfortunately," Dean answered dolefully, looking up at Sam. "Find anything?"

"I found this," said Sam, holding up a very old yellow toothbrush and dropping it on Dean's head. "I wonder who brushed their teeth using that."

"An ugly demon," Dean responded. "Nothing at all?"

"It's really dusty up here,"

"What's this?" Carmen asked, looking at a painting this time. Dean sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair.

"It looks weird," Carmen continued. "He's holding a glass. Hey, is this your Father too?"

"Yes. Now please sit down and sh…," And then the painting caught his attention. It was on the wall right next to the statue and it was curious. He had never seen it before and it was Lucifer, looking at the painter with dark eyes that slanted somehow as if he knew a secret that you didn't.

But the most curious part of the painting was what was in Lucifer's hand. A glass of wine that was empty.

Dean's eyes darted towards the statue and he noted that the statue also curled his fingers as though he was holding the same glass.

"Oh yes...Now, I remember...Aha, genius girl. Smarter than you look, aren't you?" Dean pulled on her cheek. He promptly took an empty goblet off a nearby collection of them and placed it in the statue's grasp. Almost immediately, the statue moved, lowering the wine glass, pausing and them spinning around to reveal an open space leading into a dark hallway.

Dean came back for Sam and held up his hands so the boy hopped into his arms and Dean set him down. "Let's go. There's not much time."

Dean ushered the two of them inside and gave the boy a little push before he stopped just as something burned on the edges of his mind, burning like hot fire. He rubbed his temples, frowning until the pain unexpectedly began to intensify.


	16. XVI

Dean's heartbeat triple timed. His blood started pounding in his ears. There was no mistaking what this was. A distressful call through the mind. A fleeting message that cried for either aid or a plea to run away. His eyes averted to the door where he rubbed the back of his head.

"What's wrong now?" Carmen asked, meeting his gaze.

Dean shook his head, rubbing his fingertips against his temple."Nothing."

But it came again and much more painfully. The distant distress call that pierced through the veil. And then he felt it. Subtle but growing stronger by the second. The need to avenge. To act. To take out his weapon and fight. He had felt this instinct few times before.

Acting quickly, Dean pushed Carmen into Sam, leaving them stumbling into the dark hallway. "Go." Was all he said before yanking the statue behind them and sealing it closed.

"What the hell?!" said Carmen, outraged through the barrier.

"Get him out of here," Dean ordered.

"Dean! You…You pro-"

"Sam, get out of here!" Dean snarled. "I don't have time to explain! Just go! Turn around and run! I'll come back for you. I promise, I'll come bac-"

The door opened.

And just for a fraction of a second, The General and Dean locked eyes. A slow smile began to spread across the Archangel's face.

The General was too quick for Dean to even fathom and upon the demon within a second, flattening him against the painting and holding him down with his hands pressed down on Dean's shoulders. "You are all evidence that prayers get answered. I was hoping. I was_ praying_. I was _wishing _it was **you**."

He pressed down on Dean with enough force to break bones were he human. " Do you remember me? _I_ remember you. I've spent a long time looking for the king of Hell, Dean. I spent a long time looking for you. Do you know why?"

Dean leaned forward so that they were inches apart. "Get off me, Celestial."

"I'm very put out that you don't remember. It's not like you were a baby," said Raphael. He released one shoulder to take Dean by the chin and turn his face so that he was facing the side and his cheek was visible. Raphael traced the scar there. "This is all you walked away with."

Dean jaw locked, and he spoke the name with unfiltered hate. "Raphael."

His inner eye took him back.

An arrow through the dark, another one meant to claim his life that only cut through his face and left a permanent mark.

The cowardly act that haunted him to this day.

His promise to destroy all of the angels that dared enter his realm.

Raphael laughed. Really laughed, head back and shoulders shaking. He pressed his forehead into Dean's shoulder as though he couldn't take it anymore, but his whisper was spoken in secret. His nose pressed to Dean's throat, breathing in his scent. "You were the one that got away, Dean... I hope to rectify that now."

Abruptly, Raphael looked up, eyes on the painting. "How fitting that your father watches you die just as you watched him die. It's an irony of sorts…You know I wanted to kill you alone, no one else. I saw that blast of power that wiped out the regiment. I thought you were something special when I first laid eyes on you...Subtle but recognizable in a sea of wretchedness. Something to be feared even…but now that I see you face to face…"

"Get. Off. Me. Celestial," Dean repeated in a low growl.

"You're nothing special, are you, Dean? Just a boy borrowing power. You're not anything big or strong…I knew that flash of power that took them out couldn't be from a normal demon and for a while, I believed you were something…But…," Raphael leaned down, licked a line across Dean's stubble. "You're nothing. You're no one. And you've become quite an annoyance."

Dean raised his arm and shoved him off. The angel staggered back but recovered enough to stand fully, licking his lips just as Dean dragged himself back to his feet.

"It took years to plan that assault. Years, Dean. Do you comprehend that? Years to plan that strike. We had to wait for the perfect moment, wait for the King and his Prince to be totally isolated in their throne room. We had to get layouts of your throne room, use pathetic means to get this information. Spies in your sector. You'd be surprised at how many demons in your legion are greedy enough to work for us if only to kill you. Not a very well-liked Monarch, are you, Dean?"

"Let me guess," Dean sneered, dusting himself off. "Did I ruin your grand plan?"

In complete mockery of Lucifer, Raphael took his face between his hands. "You were my plan. I wanted it to be you so _badly.. _You have no idea. I wanted _you_ to die, not my brother. But you evaded your fate. And now... I'm going to kill you. Bury you deep into the bowels of hell so no soul can ever find you."

"The day I let a fucking Celestial prick step foot in my realm again is the day I die,"

There was slashing sound and rip in clothing as a blade imbued with holy power was gouged deep into Dean's side. The demon 's body curved to one side and he let out a pained cry that he barely managed to stifle. Dean's fingers automatically wrapped around Raphael's wrist and he struggled to pull it out.

"Then you die tonight,"

But his face fell when he watched Dean place a hand over the wound and promptly began to close it. To the Archangel's amazement, the skin began to knit itself over the wound.

"You thought wrong."

Raphael growled in disdain and rushed forward, mid speed, his clothing began to change into armor made of gold and silver. He locked the blade against Dean's and slammed his back against the window. The force didn't stagger Dean who shoved his opponent back a second time.

Dean curled his fingers to a fist and raised it eye level, his entire palm glowed orange and he powered up the element to resonate throughout his body for a single blast. Raphael was ready for him, mirroring his use of the spell. A jet of white light shot from his fingertips and met Dean's fire spell midair.

The spell was too strong, cutting the bed in half.

"You're in over your head, Dean," said Raphael over the sound of the two powers colliding. "Maybe you should go back home."

Raphael was perfectly at ease, circling Dean while the demon struggled to maintain it, the white light's stream was much longer than his and it was starting to enclose around him. He felt his palm begin to scald from the power. Heat mixed with something else, something tingling.

Dean twisted around, breaking the connection for half a second and catching the stream of white light off his blade so that the light reflected back. Raphael broke off too, spinning around just as his own spell backfired and burned down the entire wall behind him, revealing the other room.

The break of power made Dean falter, struggle to catch his breath. Raphael took advantage of the moment of weakness to speedlight Dean and take him from behind, wrapping his arms around tight and lifting him up with his blade pressed flat and hard into Dean's abdomen.

Dean freed one arm, elbowed the angel in the face and heard the crunch of his nose break and bleed. Dean spun around and punched him, breaking the Archangel's jaw, following up with his own knuckle breaking in unison. He shook off the injury and kicked the angel in the front thigh with enough force to tear the muscle. Raphael crumbled on it just as Dean slashed across his face and a long gash bled down one cheek.

He slowly twisted his face to look at Dean who was grinning. "Now we're even."

Raphael didn't speak. Not anything he could understand anyway. The angel screamed a primal scream and lunged at Dean, sword flying as he struck fast and violently in an all-out assault, uncaring of what object nor obstacle stood in his way, merely hoping to land a devastating wound.

But he didn't. Dean matched his speed and when he found an open spot in Raphael's defense he parried Raphael's blade above their heads until the Archangel lost grip of it and Dean back flipped in time onto the top of one half of the bed and caught it.

"I'm through with you, demon," Raphael growled through his teeth. "Do you understand me? I'm done. You're-"

"At my mercy, you keep your goddamn mouth shut," said Dean coldly, twirling Raphael's blade idly in one hand and eyeing it up and down. "This is an impressive weapon. I've never seen its equal."

To Raphael's surprise, Dean tossed the sword back to him so it slid to Raphael's feet and the Archangel picked it up.

"That's your warning. I don't have time to tango with Archangels. Any other day, your head would be on a pike in my throne room," And just by his face you could tell the King wasn't joking. "But today, I'm busy."

Before Raphael could raise his weapon in threat, Dean beat him to the punch and pointed his sword at the angel's throat. "And who said demons aren't merciful?... Don't follow me. Or I _will_ kill you."

Dean sheathed his sword.

As Dean turned away, The Archangel spoke in a low, shocked voice. "How can you be this way? I killed him. I killed Lucifer. I tried to kill you. I've been trying to kill you and now, the moment you have me at your mercy, you walk away?"

"A change of heart is more like it," Dean explained. He sighed and considered Raphael for a moment, tapping a finger to his lower lip. "There are such things, you know."

Dean reached behind him and sheathed his sword. "Now, don't follow me."

But Raphael wasn't going to back down that easy. And Dean should have known that. The arrogance of the King never waned even in the face of his near demise. He had barely taken two steps towards the statue when the window shattered and Dean was showered with glass. He staggered, putting his jacket over his head but not shielding himself enough from the glass that cut his skin through the holes made in ripped clothing. Water poured in, a storm of rain and debris.

"What the hell?" Dean snarled, turning to Raphael accusingly, who merely smiled in response.

"That would be the eastern seaboard," said Raphael with ease. "You're a fool to walk from a triumphed opponent, Dean. A fool."

The Archangel closed his eyes in concentration and the storm began to magnify. The rain and wind came in with enough force to make Dean step forward from the speed of those winds.

He reached behind him for his sword for the second time, but just then it stopped. The rain stopped…quite literally. In mid-air there were still drops of it that hadn't made an impact anywhere yet. Even the glass that had just shattered was airborne and floating. Dean found he could still move, but it seemed like time had ceased altogether otherwise.

"What is this magic?" Raphael could move as well. That was unfortunate. He whipped his head around for the source. "Show yourself! Is this you, Demon? What demon has the power to control time?"

Dean poked a floating drop of water. "It's not a demon." Slowly, his gaze went to the statue. It had begun to crack, fissure lines went through the eyes, through the heart before it exploded into hard pieces that Dean was thrown into the wall from.

With eyes glowing white and floating several feet into the air, Sam was the image of terrifying. His expression showed that he saw the entire fight, enough to finally think it was time to interfere.

Raphael got back to his feet and grinned. "So, the Exile. Finally, you show your face to me…The boy locked behind a true monster. This is what you protect, Prince. The Destroyer of cities."

Dean didn't say anything, only edged along the wall, some invisible force keeping him there. Power rolled off Sam in waves, in pure white light that was different from that of angels. It was Will that was foreign, if it was Will at all. The same echo that he felt in the S Prefecture, magnified by a thousand.

A fog like mist procured from Sam and spread across the room. The moment it touched Dean, he felt it enter his system like a poison. It hit his nervous system first and then targeted his Will, expanding and contracting it painfully within him. Like something had taken a hold of his insides and twisted them.

"Your power is untamed…Wild and untamed, Exile," said Raphael, holding his sword up. Sam only glowered at him and then let out a piercing scream that sounded neither human nor beast. A blastwave of light broke through his body straight towards Raphael that he reflected off his blade. But the power didn't completely reflect, instead it seemed to absolve into the Archangel's body.

"You have extraordinary Will…But no way to use it. I can see now your power is a link to your emotion. Do you feel something for this demon, boy? I'm going to kill him as soon as I detain you. Long have I waited for this moment to come."

"You will not harm Dean," said Sam in a low voice that didn't sound like himself.

"Sammy?" Dean murmured, hoping to call the boy's attention, but the boy was no longer aware of him inside his own power, inside his own upsurge of it all. "Sammy?... Sam, can you hear me?"

But he couldn't…

Dean spotted Carmen just behind him, through the show of Sam's power. When she saw Dean, she rushed over and pulled him to his feet. She wrapped his arm around her neck and began to drag him towards the door.

"No, I'm not leaving him behind," said Dean in earnest, resisting her hold. "I promised him I'd stay with him. I promised."

"Honestly?" She was stronger than him, not being in the eye of the blast, for the moment, and after all, her strength came from him. "Seems like he's handling himself pretty well. Have you seen your face? Uh…no offense, but you don't have a lot of time left before it looks like you're gonna blow."

"NO!" Dean shouted, an order this time. "Let go of me. I'm staying. I'm staying here with him."

Carmen pulled on his arm. "You're going to die if you stay here." Even as she looked, Sam had fumes of white vapor coming from his shoulders. His power was growing, steadily stronger with each passing second. And Raphael was on par with him, barely struggling to hold his power at bay.

"Let go. Save yourself!" Dean yelled over the noise.

"No!" And she pulled harder this time so Dean was forced to stand.

Dean growled in response, but he let himself be moved, dropping his resistance completely. His body was starting to weaken more and more. One eye trailed behind him. Sam's power was immense. God-like even. With what little sense Dean still had, he could feel that Raphael was nothing to Sam. This was the power that wiped out a city. This was the power that all the demons dreamed of but could never achieve. A power beyond an angel, beyond an Archangel.

Sam remained unaffected by the glow. He must have witnessed the entire fight to choose to act now. All the Will in the manor was being drawn to him, whether he knew it or not.

"Sammy….?" Dean whispered this time barely audible above the sound of the boy's raw power.

Dean could see by Carmen's face that something of a sickly effect was happening to her. It was a mist to destroy Will, the same type of venom in the form of a mist that poisoned him before from the Anema blade. The kind he had to kill _this one _in order to heal from it.

Carmen continued to drag him but the weakness felt palpable as he limped down the hallways, leaving behind the Archangel with the boy.

Dean took command, steered her around the corner, running from that mist before it consumed them both. The whole entire manor was starting to crumble in on itself and Dean was painfully reminded of his escape from the Temple of Light.

He ran straight into Castiel and instinct took over, wrapping an arm around the angel and pushing them both over the stair rail into the ground floor of the entrance hall. He was crushing Castiel when they hit and he knew the angel took most of the impact.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Carmen asked from above.

"Why are you on top of me?" Castiel groaned from underneath Dean.

Dean raised himself up by his palms so most of his upper body strength was held there and some of the weight was off the angel. "Why? Do you prefer to top, angel? Because we can reverse."

Castiel had no response for that, starting to push Dean off but only catching his shoulders and peering up at his face that was steady succumbing to the mist that Sam had created. He was paler than ever before. He looked like he was succumbing to sickness.

Now Castiel could recognize this mist that slowly began to spread around them, not yet effecting him but not far off from doing so. It was of the same kind that had killed off all the residents of the S prefecture before Sam "arrived". It was a slow descent into death for them, and Castiel wagered it would be the same for all of them if they lingered here much longer.

"It seems we always meet in circumstances such as like this," said Castiel.

"Unfortunate, isn't it? For _you_, anyway," Though Dean smiled, it didn't touch his eyes. There was a world of emotion there. And like always, Castiel couldn't name any of them behind that tightly coiled facade.

It was the worst prospect he could imagine to find him still here. To know that Merrick and Lilith had fallen to defend him but the King was still here. For whatever reason. He didn't care. He shouldn't have been here if he wanted to survive.

"Dean…You have to get out of here. Just go. I can take it from here," Castiel told him, as the two of them got to their feet with Dean catching him around the elbow and yanking him upward.

"I will not leave Sam here. I'm only getting _this_ one," He jerked his head towards Carmen as the girl appeared at the top of the stairs. "out of here."

"If you want to live, you'll get out of here too,"

Dean stepped closer and looked down at Castiel with smoldering green eyes. "There's not a chance I can get back there and come out alive…But with that small chance...that I can…Come with me."

"You know I can't do that," said Castiel, shaking his head and taking a step back from Dean. It gave a sting to his heart to say such things, and he watched the rejection and hurt touch Dean in a similar way.

"There's _nothing_ for you here, angel. I can't promise you the life they trained you for. I can't be like them and give you orders that you follow without question, without a word to give of your own. But I can tell you this: It's wrong. _He's_ wrong. He's _all_ types of fucked up and you need to get away from him."

"Dean…," And he didn't know what compelled to do what he did right there. There was so much pain in Dean's expression. He touched his face, felt the protrusion of the scar. Dean's skin felt feverish, with a racing pulse underneath. "I'm sorry."

They were at an impasse. Dean couldn't leave with him without being captured and tortured until death. For information he didn't have.

He didn't know what Sam was, and he had no viable explanation to justify breaking the treaty several times over. As the Monarch of Hell, they would execute him. And judging by who was ruling that decision, the odds weren't in his favor. And Castiel couldn't abandon his garrison without being marked as a traitor.

"Just go, Dean," It was the only idea Castiel had to offer, and it was a poor one. "I can distract Balthazar. You can get away. Just leave this place. Leave Sam. Leave _all_ of it. Go back home where you belong and write this whole thing off as a bad dream. They'll never come for you in Hell. He fears you. I know he does."

"He killed Lucifer, angel. He'll never stop hunting me now that he knows I'm here. He won't let me get away...You know that,"

"But you can take the risk. You have an army in Hell," Castiel pleaded. "Please, Dean. Just go. You can _still _walk away from all of this. It's not too late for you."

"Why do you even care, angel? Why do you even care if I leave and survive?" Dean asked. "You've wanted to secretly kill me since the moment you met me."

"I had a change of heart," Castiel replied. And he was surprised at how easy the words came. " You saved my life back there. You didn't have to. You came back for me. I know what you were trying to do, Dean. I know you now. I know you don't want this war as much as the rest of us...but he's different. He doesn't care. He'd rather see you dead and bleeding."

"It's just the way it is,"

Castiel's hand cupped Dean's cheek. "It never had to be this way. Just turn around, Dean."

Dean was a moment answering. But Castiel could tell that he hadn't even considered him. That smile was too knowing as Dean's fingers closed over Castiel's wrist. "I knew you were special the first time I met you. So different from the rest."

"Please, Dean. Focus," begged Castiel.

"I'm focused. I know, angel. Believe me, I know. But I can't walk away. I'm too involved now. So are you. You wouldn't be telling me to run and cower if you weren't involved," His fingers tightened. "So run with me."

Castiel stared deep at the demon's face. Not too long ago, he was staring at him in amazement, wondering what could possibly be going on in the demon's head. He might have been right calling Castiel different from the rest, but Dean was like no demon.

He detested the part of him that wanted to, that would have abandoned all of this just to be on the run again with this demon. This demon that saved his life twice at the hands of a raging monster, this demon who had confided in him his true purpose. This demon who viewed him as something special.

And it took all the effort in the words to let his pride dominant and say those two words. "I can't."

Dean nodded as though he was answering his own question. He leaned away from Castiel's touch, letting go of his hand. "Do me a favor? Get her far from here. Get Merrick too. I know he's in bad shape. But he's alive…I would have felt otherwise. Just take them out of here. Please, for me."

"I can't do that while he's here, Dean. Balthazar is waiting for me outside. He healed me earlier and he's standing ready. He's waiting for the General...I can't just leave him...We have to carry out our orders. I can't just—"

"I'm going to kill him," Dean cut in flatly. "You understand me? I'm going to kill him. Don't even worry about the General. Angel or not, I _will _stab him in the face."

The corner of Castiel's lips twitched. Even though the moment was serious."I'm sure you would..."

"...I would have never wrote it off as a bad dream, Cas," said Dean with conviction. "Not when I met you. It's worth whatever comes. I hope you know that."

There was no convincing Dean. He could see that.

Castiel nodded slowly.

Dean pulled the angel forward and pressed his lips briefly to his forehead. "Goodbye, angel."

Raphael was holding on to the connection that linked him to the boy until finally the boy's power waned into nothing more than a spark of what it started out as. Mortal as they could come. His power wasn't infinite as it might have been believed. Raphael batted the stream of power away and finally the boy was hit by his own power square in the chest. He fell forward, unconscious. Raphael gave a little chuckle before placing his sword back in it's sheath and approaching, tilting his head at the fallen boy.

The boy was still human after all, at least in part. Such emotions couldn't be triggered by something truly monstrous. What a weakness. It was this that kept him from reaching a true potential. The emotion such as rage in this case was his downfall rather than his victory.

"You...You're something..." He scooped the boy easily into his arms and headed off, ignoring the crumbling walls, ignoring that the remnants of Sam's power was still evidenced all around them. Even now he was emitting some strange energy that kept his time spell in place.

An Archangel had no need to close their eyes to communicate. A telepathic link was formed to Balthazar just on will alone. "What's your location? I have detained the Exile."

"Outside. Securing perimeter. I healed Castiel to clean up any other bodies you left behind. I have Lilith and the Guardian here. They're knocked out. I think you went a little overboard with the girl...She's not breathing...And... Small problem, General. There's humans outside the manor gates. They're investigating, I'm guessing? Or maybe there was a neighbor complaint? There's a whole mob of them. I put the Magic Barrier up so they didn't see any oddities, but they're still standing here."

"Did the King escape?"

"Negative. I sent Castiel inside to find him on the other side. No word yet, but there hasn't been much of a disturbance,"

"Good work, Commander. Now dispose of them," Raphael ordered.

Balthazar was a moment answering. "General...what do you mean by 'dispose of them'?"

"It means kill them and get the hell out of range because I'm about to purge this damned manor," Raphael effectively dropped a mental shield to prevent Balthazar's reply from coming in. He stopped at the top of the stair ledge and stopped short at the sight of Dean embracing Castiel down below.

"..._Goodbye, angel."_

It was Carmen who was smart enough to look up right after. She could barely get her warning out before Raphael freed a hand and covered the view of her face by holding out his palm and extending all his fingers. A massive sound wave issued in the form of a high pitched scream.

The golden vibrations became steadily louder and louder and one by one, the two demons and the angel fell unconscious. Dean was barely two steps away when he fell to the ground. And he confirmed what he suspected when Castiel had reached for the demon in aid.

And now they lay, side by side, a ying yang, hands unconsciously reaching for each other. Raphael stepped slowly down the steps until he was right in front of them, eying both with interest. He tightened his hold around the boy and tilted his head at the sight of them.

"Well...Isn't this interesting?" He threw off his mental shield. "Balthazar, come inside."

Moments later, Balthazar entered, sheathing his sword. Once he caught sight of Sam in Raphael's arms, his eyes widened. "That's him, then? Kind of small for God, don't you think?"

"That's him, and he is _not_ a God. Rest your suspicion and rumors. Father would never tire out of a fight," Raphael confirmed without looking away from Dean and Castiel. "Bring them both and the demons you captured. We're going."


	17. XVII: AUTHOR'S NOTE

**A/N:** Hello you guys. Okay so this is my fair warning. The next chapters will contain **MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS****. **Now I know that most other authors give this warning beforehand. I believe that gives away too much for just the beginning of the story. So I opted to do it in the middle. If you have read this far, I appreciate it. All your support is what keeps me going.

But I think my readers deserve a fair warning.

Also I know this throws my chapter numbers off in normal number format, so I apologize, but here's my warning. There will be major character deaths. I also believe we're reaching the end to Raison D'etre so this story will reach complete status soon enough. Again, thank you for reading and it has been my utmost pleasure writing this.


	18. XVIII

"Dean…Dean. Wake up. Your Majesty," Merrick was hissing…closer than he expected. Louder than he wanted. "Your Majesty, wake up. Please, sire."

Unwillingly, Dean slowly opened his eyes, expecting light. Merrick interrupted such a good dream about a roasted feast waiting for him in front of his throne. When he woke, he was covered in sweat, dripping in it. He tried to move but he couldn't, not very much anyway. His wrists were tied above his head against a wall. He started to yank himself but that didn't do very good. In fact, it felt like those cuffs had been in place for a long time.

Iron and painful. It was well known by the Celestials that iron was painful for a demon and this was no exception. He didn't fight the restraints any longer. Lucky for him the iron cuffs around his feet were shielded by clothing but still tight. His jacket had been stripped. Only a black tank top which showed several gashes that had been done in his sleep, perhaps?

He took a look around, the room was dark. Like a dungeon but his eyes began to adjust and he tried to summon the Will to enhance his eyesight but that did no good as well. He had been drained dry, and only a spark was left to keep him alive.

Dean spotted Merrick across the room and beside him was Lilith, both bound the same exact way he was. Next to him he felt an elbow poke his raised arms and knew that Carmen was there as well. Curiously, there seemed to be iron rings in the ground below them that were wide enough to hold their whole bodies. Holes almost, and he wondered what issued through them or what already had issued from them.

Carmen and Lilith looked like they had been unconscious as long as he had.

"To the wall, really?" Dean murmured in a hoarse voice. "That's…not very creative."

"I'm so glad you're awake, sire. You've been in and out for days," Merrick told him.

"Days?" Dean repeated. "What is this about days?"

"We've been here for four days…I woke up just like you. It was dark. Everyone around me looked dead. I thought you were for a long time, but you were occasionally stirring. You must have been having a nightmare, I thought that…. until you started muttering something about passing the butter."

"I'm really hungry," Dean justified.

"At a time like this, in a dangerous situation, you're the only one who would be."

They both met each other's gaze and laughed, each a little bit hoarsely considering the situation.

"So that's the grand torture? Kill us through starvation?" Dean asked when he found his voice again.

"No," It wasn't Merrick who answered, but Lilith. She rolled her head to look up and stare at the two of them.

"Where are we?" Dean yanked on his chains and steam rose off his flesh as though he had been burnt. "…Are we in some Celestial prison? Don't tell me they moved us to their realm."

"We're still in the mortal realm," Lilith explained. " Neither one of us would survive the Celestial realm, except perhaps the girl…..I wager they don't want to kill us so soon. Not without extracting the information they want."

"We don't know anything," Dean growled. He was so fatigued. Out as he had been for such a long time, he had never felt more tired in his life, but finding sleep now that he was aware of the viable sleeping positions was impossible at best.

"No, Dean, but we do. While you were out, that General guy…Raphael. He came inside and told us a few things," and by the way Merrick said it, it couldn't be anything good. "You ready for this?"

"Are we being watched?" Stupid question. There was no doubt, but he was hoping Raphael could hear him so he could let his choice words be out there.

"I don't know," said Merrick. "An angel comes in periodically to check if our chains are still hurting us…or maybe he's checking if they're secure. Hell, if I know."

"Is Sam still alive?" The possibility of that was low…Raphael probably killed him and took his body for whatever purpose. Whatever sinister plan he had made. His heart sank...and yet he couldn't even know if he had previously detected it through their Linked Bond while he was unconscious.

"I don't know," said Merrick again. "I asked the questions…No one really gave me anything…except that damn General…I think that was two days ago…I'm not sure. "

"Start from the beginning," Dean ordered. "What happened? I remember Cas coming in…I was talking to him. I was going to go back for Sam…He…Merrick. He held off that Archangel. With his power. That same one we saw from the city all those days ago. . I watched him do it…But Carmen got me out of there…and we couldn't go back. I was just about to go back…and I heard a sound."

Merrick nodded. "It was a Time Wave spell. I was outside…The angel had come in and dragged me there with Lilith. Whatever power came from Sam nearly knocked us out…But I was conscious enough to kinda see what was going on. He used the spell to make us all go to sleep and then he took us out. I don't really remember the ride there…I don't even know how they managed to bring all of us. I remember waking up for a second to spot Raphael, Castiel…and what's his face? Balthazar, I think? They carried Sam away. They threw us in this room... I could barely move and some angel came in. Didn't say a word, just wore a white hood. He came in here and chained us all to the walls…Then that _douchebag_ walked in."

"He wanted you to be awake, but said something about you looking beautiful in your sleep...," Lilith interjected. She paused for a moment before continuing. "And then he lashed you several times...but you never woke up...It's why we thought..."

Dean looked revolted at the thought.

"Anyway," said Merrick pointedly. "He told us what Sam was, Dean. There's a lot of things you need to understand."

"But unfortunately, we'll be leaving the formalities to me," Raphael's voice confirmed the suspicions that the three of them were being watched. The iron door opened with a loud creak. The doorway itself was much taller than Raphael but he walked in with three angels walking in behind him, all soldier-class like Castiel and Uriel. But these were unrecognizable and they all looked upon the demons with pure disgust.

Raphael stopped short of where Dean was. "I was hoping you'd be awake when I visited again. Unclip him. Bring him with us."

"Where are you going with him?" Merrick snarled while the angels removed Dean from being bound to the wall and the demon fell onto his knees. In the rusty ground, his chained hand found something sharp. He closed his fingers around it tightly, not even sure what he had taken.

Dean had no will to fight them as they took him around the arms and dragged him forward.

"Down, Guardian," Raphael smirked. "Just keeping your King well informed on manners that pertain to him."

They didn't even bother making Dean stand. They just dragged him so his legs made a path in the floor, following Raphael as he exited the room.

The light blinded Dean. It was too bright, but he was surprised to find it was a very well-lit hallway with blank white walls. It looked like something out of a mental hospital with how confined it was. The dungeon they had just left was painted black on the outside and iron. It was like the room they put the maximum security patients in. But for all it was worth, this place was abandoned. And Dean could tell just by the way their feet hit the floor that this wasn't a place that was high up or even on ground floor. This was underground, far from the sights of humans and any other supernatural creature that might come to investigate.

They pushed Dean into an unmarked room and yanked him inside. Dean grunted as he was forced in a sitting position and the chains he had brought with him were chained to a chair with a table in front of it. Raphael took a seat in front and placed his hands on the table, interlocking his fingers and surveying Dean with interest.

"Can I ask you for something?" Dean broke the silence first.

"Sure, Dean…," He gave hard emphasis to the name. "What can I get for you?"

"I need a smoke,"

Raphael chuckled. He snapped his fingers and a full pack appeared in the palm of his hand which he slid across the table to Dean. He pulled one out for him and stuck it in the demon's mouth, even lit the end for him.

Dean took a long drag before catching it between two fingers and blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"So, now that you're more comfortable…Perhaps we can get down to business," said Raphael, adjusting himself in his chair. "So, Dean…What can you tell me you know about the Exile?"

Dean took another deep hit off the cigarette, faced away. He wondered what he looked to the General; whether he looked pathetic or weak or vulnerable. Because he felt all those things and then some.

"Raphael," said Dean, slightly muffled by the cigarette in between his teeth. "We go nowhere by you asking me questions and hoping to get answers. How about we do it this way? Think of it like a game. You ask me a question, I answer. I ask you a question, you answer. We can go back and forth…with a few rules of course."

"And what gain do I get by answering your questions, your Majesty?" He pronounced the epithet with hard emphasis and mocking.

"You get honest answers," said Dean calmly.

"And you would lie otherwise? I have methods of persuasion, Dean. You underestimate me."

"You can torture me, Raphael. It doesn't matter. But keep in mind that you're conversing with the King of Hell. No one knows torture better than I do," said Dean, smiling. "I make my living off it."

Raphael returned his smile. "Very well….How about I start?"

Dean just took another hit off his cigarette and leaned back in his chair.

"First things first. How did you hear about the Exile?" Raphael asked.

"A prophecy in our bible. We have one of those too," Dean added as an afterthought. He recited as though forced to read from a textbook. "_It is said that one day a being of unassuming proportions will bring doom to Heaven and Hell…He will come in the form of innocence. His return will bring upon the death of the world between. He will destroy. He will encompass this world and the next with the falseness of his Light._"

Raphael looked thoughtful. "…That is word for word our own prophecy. Interesting….Hmm…"

"My turn," Dean interjected. "Where's Sam?"

"Do you wish to kill him?" Raphael asked.

"No," Dean answered. "And for the record, answering a question with a question is breaking one of the rules. Now where is he?"

"He's here. He's safe," said Raphael. "Very safe in fact. He's in a secure location. My turn. Why do you want to know?"

"Because I have a life debt to him. I swore one a long time ago. His life is mine and mine is his. He belongs to me."

There was an amused look on Raphael's face. "Okay…I'll bite. But that wasn't your original intention, was it?"

"Maybe we should be clear on what the rules are here...Since we're certainly not following an efficient protocol," Dean replied coolly. " Anyway…I'll answer. No. It wasn't my original intention. My original intention was to kill him. Now answer this. What are you planning to do with him?"

"I'm afraid I _can't_ answer that one, Dean. It's not that I don't want to. In fact, I'm dying to tell you….But unfortunately that information is classified…So we'll skip that question. Ask me something better. And maybe you'll get a bit warmer."

It was a question that he had on his mind since he met Sam. Even with his intent to kill in mind from before. He winced at the thought. "What_ is_ Sam? I know you know. You sure as Hell wouldn't be fighting this damn hard to get him. You wouldn't have killed everything in your path to get to this point."

"Same as you, Dean. Though your intentions seem to be leaning towards the sentimental side, if I'm correct?"

"What. Is. He?"

"Sam. Is that the name you've given him?"

"It's the name _he_ gave me. It's his name. Not the name...Exile or whatever you want to call it. Doesn't that mean outcast? He was never part of you."

"How little you know, Dean. It's sad. But understandable. If I were you, I might even feel bad for what the kid is going through as we speak."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? Just answer me."

Raphael cracked his knuckles, prepping to speak in one long breath.

"Sam was a being that was never meant to exist. You're right that he's a being of unassuming proportion…But that's not all. He is a cosmic force beyond your power and my own. He's basically a vacuum of space that can hold limited power. But that's not to say he can't exhaust himself. He tired out when I was holding him at bay. He was born into this world a normal boy…Just like you. But somewhere along the line he was blessed with being what we call...a vessel... You were also right in assuming he had to be destroyed. We used to think the same way…until we found an alternative method to control his power and use it."

"As a weapon," Dean answered scornfully, stubbing out his cigarette on the table and letting it burn there.

"I said a vessel,"

"A vessel for what, exactly?"

"A vessel for all of us," It was clear that was all Raphael was going to say on the subject, so Dean only glowered.

"A weapon," Dean clarified.

Raphael abruptly reached forward and took a hold of Dean's shoulder and pulled him close. "You can call it that. But I'm doing you a massive favor, Dean. You could say I'm saving your pathetic little existence."

"You're a fucking monster," Dean stated slowly, looking dead in his eyes. "Now where's Cas?"

"You mean Castiel," said Raphael, releasing Dean but coming around to sit on the table in front of him. "That brings me to my own question. My turn, as it were? What business do you have with Castiel? How well…acquainted are you?"

Dean didn't answer that one, but the strength of his gaze seemed to falter. "…Where is he?"

"Answer my question,"

Dean's jaw locked. "You never answered mine...And I'd much rather talk about my relationship with you. And how much I'm going to enjoy killing you."

Raphael laughed heartily as though Dean had told a good joke. "You don't hate me, Dean. You don't want to kill me. But when I'm through with you, you're going to want to kill me. You're going to be thinking of nothing else. Now answer my question…What is your relationship to my angel?"

This angel was full of bullshit and lies. And Dean wondered if the entire chain of command was aware how sadistic he was. He had respect for the other Archangels. They had served as Ambassadors to meet periodically. Michael was one of them. The eldest Angel had even come to regard Dean with some respect in the past years. But Raphael was working dirty, there was no doubt about that. Angels loved to uphold the compassionate side.

"Why do I have to wait? I'm never patient," Out of nowhere, Raphael crumpled and nursed his hand in pain. A jagged piece of the chain link that held Dean in the dungeon had been lodged into his hand. Dean was standing, gripping the makeshift knife so hard that it cut a deep gash in his palm. Raphael screamed and screamed. And Dean only smiled through the sounds of the Archangel's anguish.

He shoved Dean against the wall and watched him hit the back wall while he pulled the shard completely out of his hand, grimacing painfully as he did so.

"GET HIM UP! CHAIN HIM BACK UP NOW! HOW DID HE BREAK THOSE CHAINS?!" Raphael thundered and backed away. Three angels rushed inside to take a hold of Dean around the arms with the demon non-resistant to their grip. "THROW HIM BACK IN THE DUNGEON THIS INSTANT!"

They weren't very gentle with him either. They all but threw him back into that dungeon. Dean was laughing all the way. The angel's blood stained his hands and he couldn't feel more satisfied. With what little victories they had had, this was all he had left to hold on to for an angel that was lying to his face.

Oh, he didn't deny that there was truth regarding what Sam was and that he had some sinister plan for him. But for now, he knew the boy was safe and that was enough.

He was still laughing when they chained him back to the wall with Lilith and Merrick watching. Carmen woke from the noise, eyes wild and settling upon him in wonderment.

"Good morning, sunshine," said Dean as they chained him back up, much tighter than before. He was lifted off the ground and placed back in his ring.

"I'm guessing that didn't go so well," said Merrick as the angels left the room.

"You know me. Nothing really goes well," Dean replied.

"Where are we?" Carmen asked.

"You know as long as I was gone, princess…I couldn't get that information," said Dean.

'Are we tied up?" She started yanking on her chains. "We're tied up, aren't we? Ow! Why is it hurting me?"

"Because it's iron," said Merrick. "And Iron hurts our kind…A lot. Stop moving until you can't really feel it touch your flesh. It'll ease the pain a little bit."

Slowly, Carmen stopped moving. "Why did they put us here?"

"Because we're prisoners and they hate us," said Dean, adjusting himself, even though steam came out of his wrists again and he could feel where the flesh was beginning to peel now.

"To put it lightly," said Merrick. "What did they tell you?"

Dean's little smile dissolved. "…Nothing of import. Trash talk."

He thought about what Raphael had said about Sam…The truth, perhaps. A cosmic vacuum, a vessel meant to hold power. If that was the case, then who's power was he holding right now? Because his power wasn't coming from nothing. He was just a boy…And it was for that that Dean abandoned his intent to kill him. Now he just wanted to get him out of here…but that was proving impossible.

"We need to escape," said Dean abruptly.

"Easier said than done, your Majesty," said Lilith.

"Yeah, you got a plan?" Merrick asked.

"No, not particularly," said Dean. "But I think we could do it if we just bring our heads together. We're three Imperial Class demons. Come on now. And I'm the damn king. I just made that bastard bleed…A lot.'

"Things went better than expected," said Merrick approvingly with a chuckle.

"You know it," said Dean.

"I always knew," Lilith broke in unexpectedly. "I always knew that you were destined for great and unfortunate things, your Majesty. Since the day he chose you for this throne, I knew that he did it for a reason."

"Right about now the only great and unfortunate thing I want to do is get us out of here. Great for us and unfortunate for them."

Lilith was unphased. "Forgive me, your majesty. I did not serve you properly in this cycle...It was my job to protect you and I have failed you."

"Let's not go into this talk, all right? We're going to figure this out, all right?" said Dean as Lilith hung her head. "Let's just put our heads together...Not literally just yet...and we'll get out, simple as that, all right?"

"If you figure out a plan," said Carmen, fiddling around with her chains noisily again. "This is very uncomfortable."

* * *

><p>Raphael made a beeline straight down the hall until he entered the room directly next to the dungeon room where the demons had been placed. Unknown to them, that had been a wall made entirely of very thick glass shielded and painted to mirror the rest of the room. From this angle, they were facing the door and could see every single demon inside, pinned against east and west walls. Balthazar quickly followed him inside and when he saw the state of the general's hand, he paused.<p>

"I guess that conversation didn't go so well," The Commander commented just as Castiel entered the room behind him.

Raphael merely turned his head to their direction before slowly averting his attention back to the room. He could hear no sounds coming from the room, but the image itself, Dean speaking to his comrades with finesse and encouragement. A natural leader, to encourage his men when no hope was left. His eyes circulated between the four of them. Dean. Carmen. Merrick. Lilith. Dean. Carmen. Merrick. Lilith.

"Code of the guardian," Raphael murmured to himself in deliberation.

Below his hands were four levers, each numbered with roman numerals. He need only turn one or all to see the effects. But judging by Dean's current position, he could probably do with only two pulls of the lever.

"Balthazar. Turn Lever Three and One," Raphael ordered.

"What?" said the Commander in turn. "You mean-"

"Turn the damn lever, that's an order!"

"TURN YOUR OWN DAMN LEVER!" Balthazar roared. "You want to fry a demon alive, do it your own damn self."

With a purely venomous look at his commander, laced with disgust, Raphael gripped the lever reading one with his good hand and three with his injured. He managed to muster enough strength to turn them both at the same time.

"No! Wait!" Castiel shouted, rushing forward, but it was too late. The rings underneath the two demons opened up and a jet stream of holy flames colored gold and orange burst through the ground. All he could do was stand there. All he could do was watch as the entire walls seemed to shake with their screams.

Raphael caught him around the middle in a tight embrace and coiled himself around Castiel tight with his own strength and physical Will in a near cocoon so that the angel was forced to see over his shoulder.

"Shh...I want you to see. I..._want you to see_."

It was Merrick who noticed first. He looked down to see the ring that enclosed marked the ground slowly begin to open. Reflexively he tried to curl his legs up but the bindings around his feet prevented that. Before it even happened, he raised his eyes to meet Dean's and smiled.

"No...Merrick...," Dean barely got it out when he realized what was to come. His mouth opened in shock just as Merrick resigned himself, faced upward, proud-faced like he always had been. "No...No...NO, MERRICK, NO!"

The flames encompassed him immediately, shredding off his first layer of skin instantly and melting it down to the bone. But even as Dean watched in horror as his Guardian, his best friend, began to die, he heard the metallic click as Lilith's ring opened up. His terrified eyes fell upon her.

"I'm so sorry, your Majesty. Forgive me. Forgive-"

"NO! NO! GODDAMN YOU! DON'T YOU DO THIS! NO! NO!" Dean's screams pierced like daggers. Beside him, Carmen was screaming too, in horror and despair. He struggled violently against the chains, breaking his wrists in two snaps, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. He had to get to them. He had to save them.

What remaining flesh there had been on Lilith and Merrick simmered and boiled through the heat before exploding in a splash of blood.

And then it was over. The opening inside the rings had closed leaving only a pile of smoking ash where Merrick and Lilith had once been hanging.


	19. XIX

All was silent in the dungeon in the days that followed. And it was quite literally days. Carmen was periodically saying a few numbers after every several hours that passed from looking at her watch. The demons were weak enough that they no longer needed restraints. A few times, Carmen had fallen asleep. But Dean never moved. Just sat vigil against the wall where he had been chained with his eyes staring forward at the place where Merrick and Lilith once were, both reduced to flakes of bone and ash amidst burnt clothing.

"Can I be...near you? Please?" Carmen had asked the question several times to no answer. Now she pleaded. She didn't wait for an answer, just crawled over to where Dean was and rested her head on his shoulder, gripping his arm tightly. He hadn't cleaned himself at all, or even tried to. Dried blood stained tracks down from his eyes where tears had fallen. The only movement Dean was making was a rolling a ring he had recovered from Merrick's remains over and over with his thumb. He had his knees up to his face and his arms wrapped lazily around them.

The door creaked open and Carmen nearly jumped. But still Dean didn't move, remained immobile as footsteps entered the dungeon and closed the door behind him. Dean recognized the foul stench without having to look up. It was Raphael.

"Don't look so down, your Majesty. This is hardly befitting royalty to look so sad," said Raphael, kneeling in front of Dean and attempting to meet his gaze. Dean didn't look at him, didn't avert his gaze, as if the shock still hadn't worn off or he was caught in a daze.

Raphael clucked his tongue, stood and placed his hands on his hips. "You should be thanking me, Dean. What I did was out of mercy. Everything I have done is for the good of the long run. For the future. Can you imagine what a Fallen might have done in my stead? He would have happily watched you all burn and laughed over your corpses. But not I. Do you know why? Because I have...taken a liking to you, Dean. And your part in this isn't over yet...Not by a long shot."

Dean moved, his eyes snapped on Raphael like a predator suddenly aware his prey was nearby. His eyes so full of life and bright green had dulled considerably to a pitch black. He had not enough Will to sustain himself and this was the repercussion.

"You have no idea what they're capable. And I've seen it in action. Mind Control...The power to rip you away from your consciousness without you ever knowing it. Subtlety at it's best. We truly have never faced an enemy like our own brothers...but I digress. Excuse my awe for them. It's just that I've never seen such a thing before...It's like..."

But Dean was tuning him out now. A few days ago the last thing he heard before engaging Raphael was the word vengeance spoken on the edge of his mind like a whisper. But it was a command as well. It was Lilith's voice. The first demon had always had the ability to gaze into the future. She was limited to what she had called "outlines only, never a true glimpse." She had foreseen her own demise before feeding Dean her last prophecy about his destiny.

She wouldn't have said it, otherwise. Lilith was always conceited. And even in Hell, he disliked just how much the demon only cared for her own wellbeing over thoughts of the kingdom. It was why Lucifer never chose her and chose Dean.

But now she was gone...His first legacy.

He understood now why she had whispered such a thing to his mind. Her wish for vengeance was again an act for herself. But her last wish, regardless.

"Are you listening, Dean?" Raphael pulled him out of his thoughts, yet Dean's face gave nothing away. "I said...I might be gone for some time. So if you hear silence, please proceed to do what you're doing...Which is...what absolutely nothing?...I shall be back soon...With a surprise. You might actually cheer up when I bring it in."

He gently prodded Dean's foot then bent down again, lowering his voice to a whisper. "This is power, Dean. The power I have over you, right now? There's nothing like it. To watch a proud demon fall in the face of death. I saw it in your eyes when I killed them..." He pointed over to the blank stretch of wall. "I've been watching for days. And this reaction...? Priceless. I wouldn't lose it for the world."

Raphael talked too fucking much.

He ruffled Dean's blood-crusted hair and stood again. "This is all part of God's great plan, Dean. You may think I'm evil...or sadistic. But I'm not. I'm really not. You'll see."

Raphael kissed two fingers and waved a parting before leaving them behind; Dean's eyes followed him all the way. The door banged loudly with his departure.

Carmen held Dean's arm tighter and curled closer around him. Her only comfort in this dark dungeon of silence where the two of them were simply waiting to die. Waiting for the inevitable to happen.

* * *

><p>It seemed like hours later that there was activity. Dean and Carmen had fallen into a daze, too worn out to stay awake, but too distracted to fully sleep. The door opened again and neither of them looked up to see who it was. Though it was much quieter this time, like the perp was trying to exercise quiet and caution.<p>

They made a beeline straight for Dean, pressed a cold hand to his neck as though checking for a pulse and Dean's blackened eyes focused at last on who it was.

Castiel.

"Dean," The angel took his shoulder and shook it gently. "Dean. Dean, please. Wake up."

Dean didn't say anything.

"We don't have a lot of time, Dean. The ceremony's already begun. Do you understand me? The ceremony's begun, Dean. They've started...We have to go now," Castiel spoke in earnest.

The demon blinked very slowly and spoke in a cracked voice, worn out from disuse. "...Angel."

"Come on. We have to get you out of here. Come on," He took a hold of Dean's free arm and began to pull. But his strength alone was not in it, it was like pulling a dead body, dead weight. "Come on."

Finally, Dean let himself be pulled, gave a half-assed effort to help get back up to his feet and nearly stumbled into Castiel for lack of coordination. But the angel had a surprisingly good grip on him. Carmen was pulled alongside him and she definitely didn't have enough balance, holding Dean's elbow harder as though it was her lifeline.

Dean was dead on his feet, ready to falter again, but he managed a small, weak smile that didn't touch his nearly lifeless eyes. "So...you've sided with the Celestial dickhead and his little merry gang of fuckery. That's great...That's just...dandy."

"No, Dean," said Castiel, holding Dean steady by the shoulders. "I haven't. Not now. Dean...He's brought Fallen from your Realm. Summoned them here. The ceremony is going on right now...and this is our only chance to make an escape, all right? Balthazar destroyed every guard on this level...The exit's just down one floor... We can make it out of here without them ever noticing we left."

It seemed to take Dean ages to digest this. His slow blinks and inability to form expression were evidence enough of his internal defeat. He looked ready to pass out or sleep on his feet. But eventually he swallowed, opened his eyes and peered at Castiel with a wistful look.

"Did you know...that Merrick was my Guardian for over three hundred years...? He took care of me...when my Father wasn't around...And now...he's dead...Because of a Celestial prick...,"

Castiel's grip was threatening to break bones now. "That's why you have to come with me now, you're in danger if you stay here."

Sense was slowly coming back to Dean, and a spark of the fierceness that enveloped Dean before appeared. "I'm not leaving without Sam."

"But Dean," It was Carmen who spoke this time. "We can go. He's saying he'll let us leave."

"I'm not...leaving without Sam," Dean repeated stubbornly.

"Forget about Sam," said Castiel. He looked pained to say it, but his expression told that he knew something they didn't. "He's dead already to us. You can't enter the chamber where he's in. It's protected by a magic barrier. And besides, it's too dangerous."

The impending argument seemed only to tire Dean out. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped in Castiel's grip. Castiel dragged him this time, nodding to Carmen to help him as they each took an arm and pulled Dean towards the open door into the lit hallway.

They managed three steps before the walls began to shake, the floor began to tremble and Castiel started to speed up, forcing Carmen to keep up with his momentum.

It woke Dean. He unwrapped his arm from Carmen and took a hold of Castiel. With surprising force for someone supposedly so weak, he slammed him against the wall. "I told you. I'm not leaving without Sam."

"Listen, Dean-"

"There's no argument, angel," said Dean. "I lost Merrick. I lost Lilith. I will not lose Sam to this damned place."

"You have to,"

"It's the beauty of free will, angel. I can do what I want...," He was looking right into Castiel's eyes, and he didn't look away while addressing Carmen. "Carmen. Follow the exit trail. Find the angel and get yourself out. Tell him to take you to the nearest town and wait for me there."

"But-" She stopped as Dean's order gripped her. She was unable to resist a direct command from her creator. "I-"

"Now," said Dean. Now he looked at her. "I will come for you. I promise."

Carmen's eyes went from Castiel to Dean then back again. She turned tail and ran straight towards the end of the hallway towards the escalator without looking back.

Dean returned his gaze to Castiel and took a hold of the angel's wrists. "Not without Sam."

"I get it," said Castiel, giving up. There really was no negotiating with this demon. How stubborn was he? "But I'm going with you...This is my fight too...and I saw it happen. I saw them kill Merrick and Lilith...I never want to doubt again...I'm sorry for what happened to them, Dean...I'm so sorry."

Dean's lips twitched in a small smile. Without even thinking, he tilted his head and pressed his lips very gently to Castiel's. The kiss started slow at first, but building. Dean's hands slid down Castiel's wrists to his elbows where he released him and took a hold of Castiel's face, pressing his body closer until Dean was all Castiel could feel. His heat, the waning strength that struggled to hold him together.

"I never blamed you," Dean said in a low growl when he pulled away for breath, kissing him again, then parting again. "Not once. You came for me. That's what matters. You're _mine. _Even if the world burns around me now."

Castiel merely looked at him with the same intensity that Dean was giving him. He pressed his forehead against Dean's and closed his eyes. Through that single touch, Castiel managed to pass along a tiny fragment of energy into Dean. Harmless and minuscule, but enough that it would strengthen him a bit. Like taking a sip of water after traveling the desert sands.

They were both late in realizing that someone had joined them and they weren't alone in this hallway. They both turned at the same time to find a short, curly red-haired demon staring at the two of them with a blank look. Castiel broke away from Dean first, pulling his sword out of his sheath at the ready.

"Hold on," said Dean, pressing a hand to Castiel's chest and stepping around him. "I don't think he's an enemy. He would have attacked if he was."

"Balthazar and I dispatched every enemy on this floor other than you and Carmen," said Castiel.

Dean drew closer to the demon before Castiel could stop him, one hand on the wall to support his walk. "I don't think he's from this floor. He's certainly Imperial-Class...But not one of mine."

"Dean...Be careful,"

The demon continued to stare at them with a blank look. Actually, he wasn't really looking at either of them in particular, just forward. There was something dead in his eyes.

"As your King, I command you to take me to the ceremony," Dean ordered.

"Dean, wait a second," Castiel interjected. But the demon had already turned and begun to walk towards the elevator. His walk was sloppy and uncoordinated, like a drunken man. One foot was dragging behind uselessly as though he had broken it.

"He's taking us there," said Dean, beginning to follow, matching the demon's slow pace.

"You're not going far without your weapon," Castiel pointed out.

"Then I guess you're going to be fighting for me," Dean replied with the merest flicker of a smile. The demon was leading them towards the elevator. Once inside, Dean leaned against the wall with Castiel next to him and the demon standing in front. He didn't look back of acknowledge them in anyway; they could have been invisible for all the attention he gave them.

The moment the doors opened, the silence ended. This must have been basement level or near it because the entire hall was changed to a very dimly lit one reminiscent of something out of a miner's tunnel underground. The lights were flickering one by own and it looked the floor itself was smaller like the walls and ceiling had shrunk considerably.

The demon walked forward and started to lead them to the end where organ music began to grow steadily louder. Like something out of a sinister movie or a book. The music itself sounded like _Toccata and Fugue _in much slower play. Dean exchanged a look with Castiel as they followed with Dean keeping one hand light on the wall to support his walk.

The demon stopped when they had reached the end. He hadn't spot it before but the floor seemed to pivot a little with a tiny cave like entrance to where Dean could vaguely see a metallic grate that allowed them passage further. Dean began to walk past the demon and ducked down to get inside but when Castiel tried to follow, the demon held up a hand to his chest and shook his head.

"Dean," said Castiel, making Dean turn back. "He's not..."

Dean stared at the demon who shook his head at Castiel and mumbled something incoherent that definitely didn't sound like consent.

Dean dropped his voice down to a whisper. "It must only hold very little weight at a time. Stay here. Once I'm through...You follow me, all right? I'll call out to you."

"Then let me go first," Castiel insisted. "I'm the one with the sword. You wait here."

But the demon started shaking his head faster and faster until he looked like a dog that had foregone his opportunity for a treat.

"I guess not. Sorry, angel. Just wait here," Dean apologized. "I'll call for you."

The demon led him on again, leaving a very sour looking Castiel behind them. Dean continually ducked his head until he was nearly bending at the waist and walking to fit inside. They had to get on their hands and knees and crawled with the red-haired demon ahead of him. But finally the demon stopped at the grate and pointed at it, scooting and making enough room for Dean to pass him, just barely. It was nothing, just a grate to another metal wall, but then he looked down and he had the perfect view through a rusted metal grill.

Five angels dressed in black. They were Fallen, their wings were extended and black as night. None of them Dean recognized were each gathered at the points of a glowing red star. The tips of the pentagram dissected the room into five sections. Not one of them moved an inch as Dean watched with curious eyes. But their hands were apart, their heads were facing up and their eyes were closed as though they were welcoming something in.

Candles surrounded an altar. Black and very tall but what was the most curious aspect was that the flames were pure red. The sober light spilled over the marble flooring and the silent participants like a glow from an unearthed volcano. The tension in the air was palpable and not something Dean wished to touch. Dean could sense that Raphael strove for tension in this rite.

The angels began to sing, and for the moment, Dean was bewildered. It sounded like the Catholic Mass in latin.

It wasn't them that caught his attention however. It was the altar in the middle, a raised platform where Sam's unconscious body lay. He looked unharmed but his eyes were closed. It was only the steady rise and fall of his chest that told that he was still alive.

Raphael was there too. And like his comrades, he dressed in head to toe black but this time his coat had it's hood drawn.

"Tonight...We give birth to a new age. We are the chosen ones. The ones that God Himself chose to complete this task...," Raphael extended his arms to address them all, there was a dagger in his hand. "We've had our differences in the past...but let us forget all that this night. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters but this day where we are welcomed back into the Celestial Realm as heroes."

He pointed to Sam's body. "I bring this boy as the sacrifice. The Power within him paves the way."

Sam was awake now, perhaps sensing the danger he was in. His eyes flew to the collection of fallen angels, to Raphael above him who stared him down without mercy.

Raphael was insane. That was clear to anyone who had eyes. But why were these Fallen going along with this? Loyalists never worked with Fallen and vice versa. There was deep-seated hatred there. The only explanation was that at some point, Raphael had gone rogue. The coup attempt to kill Dean must have been his first renegade act.

But it was a wonder how he hadn't been caught.

He held up the knife for all of them to see. Dean couldn't let it happen. He had killed thousands. Destroyed countless lives, human and angel. But he couldn't bear that they could do this to such an innocence and _enjoy _it. It doesn't seem as if God should allow it. But then Dean remembered that God did allow it long ago.

Raphael raised the knife high.

Sam's frightened scream tore apart his soul.

But then Dean cried out and the group instantly fell silent.

The red-haired demon that had led them here had never been alive at all. Merely a body that was left behind to be controlled by Raphael and serve his purpose. He stabbed his own dagger into Dean's lower back. He put it in deep, cut a few arteries and important blood vessels. Dean's blood seeped over the metal grill and spilled into the altar below where it landed directly on top of Sam's chest. Raphael stared hungrily up at Dean as it dropped- rain from Hell.

Dean was in such agony. Without wishing it, his weight and the dead demon's sagged onto the grill. It broke. They fell like creatures cast down from heaven. At the same time, the Fallen gathered raised their hands at once and jetstreams of red lightning burst from their finger tips and connected a single centerpoint that Dean fell through. The demon that lead Dean landed on his head first and his skull exploded in gray mass. The lightning was excruciating the moment it made contact with Dean, passing over his entire body like a blast of heat.

He landed on his back and the blade rammed further so it poked through the front, lacerating his liver in the process. Using all the strength he could muster, Dean began to pull himself up to his feet just as Raphael backed away and the tendrils of lightning made contact with Dean yet again. The worst pain he had yet to experience in his life. It couldn't be possible, but a beat or two passed when the lightning passed over the wound.

It closed with searing heat, restoring his blood flow. Closed it.

Dean's body engulfed with light and he raised his head when it passed over him a second time. The moment the lightning passed over his eyes, he was gone, just briefly. Then it gradually faded away and the demon was standing there in full black armor from head to toe and a black crown made of bone and teeth that aligned two larger bones at the forehead, reminiscent of devil horns. His hand dropped just a little with the sudden weight of his sword appearing within his grip. A huge red barrier issued from Dean with just a fraction of his concentration, preventing the chain lightning from reaching Sam's body who could only stare up at Dean in awe.

"No...," Raphael whispered. "No...Not again."

Dean leaped off the altar to engage him, a clash of swords ringing in the ceremony. Raphael's tiny little dagger was no match for the sword that destroyed his entire garrison. One swipe shattered it into many pieces and threw the hilt right out of Raphael's hands.

"You're too late, Dean!" The Archangel shouted. And he pointed right where Sam was. "Look! See for yourself! You've only delayed the inevitable. You have stopped nothing!"

Dean looked over his shoulder to see Sam soundlessly crying out for Dean through the barrier that had begun to crack. The lightning, the combined powers of the Fallen was too much for the barrier to hold through. Dean raised a hand to reinforce it.

Raphael could have laughed at the King's gullibility. He summoned his own sword, raised it high above his head with both hands and prepared to take the killing stroke.

His blade met another's with a loud clang and he quickly caught Castiel's gaze as the angel locked the swords, his held horizontally, glinting a strange aura of light from the blades across his face. Defiant. Unapologetic.

The shock had barely registered. All Raphael managed was Castiel's name before Dean had turned around and plunged his sword deep into Raphael's stomach. He sucked in automatically, blood beginning line his mouth and dribble down his chin. The demon's teeth were bared, and a feral growl left his lips as he sliced upward, cleaving through bone and muscle and brain. A shower of blood sprayed Dean and Castiel as two halves of Archangel sunk to the ground.

"DEAN, HELP ME!" Dean had barely time to turn back to Sam and see. He could feel the barrier die just through mental prowess. The lightning struck Dean and his reaction wasn't nearly as beneficial for him as it was for Dean. The body was raised against Sam's will, his arms hanging loose by his side as his mouth opened and light issued, everywhere was light. Brighter. Brighter.

Then the body dropped.

Sam looked dead from where he lay. Eyes open and wide, staring straight at Dean. All five of the Fallen as one dropped to one knee and knelt.

Dean had a feeling they weren't kneeling for him. His eyes passed over them once and returned to the altar. The light had not faded. The centerpoint had made an enormous ball of white light that began to form...

First wings, towering and massive enough to encompass the entire room. Then the body. Tall and proud. Then the face. Sharp, sapphire blue eyes.

Truly, the most beautiful angel to walk the earth.

"Lucifer," Castiel whispered.

The light left him in a burst of floating orbs that resembled mini stars. And Dean was left staring in the face of the Morning Star. The Light Bearer.

"RUN!" Dean screamed, taking a hold of Castiel's shoulder and pushing the angel towards the cavern that led away from this ceremonial room. The angel didn't need telling twice, breaking into a run. He made a grab for Sam's body and hugged the boy to him as he followed, hot on Castiel's heels.


	20. XX

The doors opened and the two rushed inside, Castiel slamming a fist to the button for the main floor.

"Is he all right?" Castiel asked in a rushed voice to Dean.

"I...I don't know. His body feels hot. I don't know...I don't know if he's going to make it,"

Castiel took a glance at his face. Panic was all over him. He had yet to seen Dean scared, even in the face of death. "Isn't there anything you can do for him?"

"Like what?" Dean nearly snapped. "Turn him? I can finish the job and let you bring him back to life if you want to try that."

"That's beyond my capability-"

"I was being sarcastic,"

"Dean, there's more Fallen than the ones we saw at the altar. Balthazar and I cleared the first floor and yours. But Raphael called the whole Fallen armada here...Killed all the staff...posed as humans. I'm sorry Dean. I should have known. They built the altar below years ago...and I couldn't even imagine that he was working with them against us. I couldn't believe he was trying to raise Lucifer...,"

"Forget about it," said Dean sharply.

"We have to-" Castiel stopped when something quaked the elevator.

"Fucking hell," said Dean, setting Sam down in the corner and withdrawing his weapon. "Can you fly here?"

"What?"

"I said, can you fly here? Extend the birdy wings and fly?"

"No, there's not enough room to make flight. Can you jump?"

"No,"

"Then what are we going to do?"

"Grab Sam," Dean commanded and he did the strangest thing. Instead of stabbing the unknown assailant, he stabbed into the ceiling with both hands gripping the blade tightly. It took supreme effort but slowly he began to create a circle.

"What are you doing?!"

" Getting you room. Now, climb the cables up one floor and get the doors open. I'll hold them off!" Dean yelled.

"What?! Are you insane?! You can't take on the entire army!"

"Exactly!"

He never made sense. Even now. But there was no time, grabbing Sam, Castiel waited until a circle shaped hole fell right in the middle of the lift, revealing the darkness above. He could just barely make out the cables that Dean mentioned, holding the elevator. Castiel climbed them as requested, but then he didn't see Dean following.

Dean turned to the elevator panel, opening a little door below the floor buttons where a set of controls were waiting for him. He pulled on the entire cover until a set of wires greeted him hiding behind a matrix of green buttons surrounding a single red one.

A computerized female voice began to speak through when Dean pressed the red button. _"**Warning: **This facility is undergoing a power shortage due to an anomaly. Please confirm next directive."_

"Great...It's voice commands only? Human technology never fails to piss me off,"

_"Please confirm next directive. Primary lift system is currently not functioning at full capacity."_

"Command: Shut down elevator," said Dean.

_"Affirmative. Shutting down elevator,"_

Castiel hissed from the top. "Dean. What are you-"

"Computer. Disable cables linked to this elevator."

"WHAT?!" Castiel shouted.

"_Warning. Disabling cable to lift may cause explosion."_

"Break the cable, computer!"

_"Please ensure all personnel are evacuated from shaft area."_

"DEAN! You'll fall!"

"Cas, grab the cable,"

"NO! You'll die!"

"Fuck that! I'm going to blow this whole place down! You got five minutes!"

"Dean..," Castiel implored.

"Five minutes! I'll meet you later!"

And he let go. Castiel watched in shock as the cable broke off, and the escalator plummeted to the bottom floor.

"DEAN!" Castiel shouted. But Dean was already gone. It couldn't be. But why was he starting to feel sick? Like something in his stomach had dropped out. Dean couldn't be dead.

He didn't have much time to waste. He began to climb the wire that Dean had told him to climb, supporting Sam tightly against his body. It wasn't an easy ascent, and no human could probably pull it off. Five minutes were all he had...and he had to make them count to getting out of here.

* * *

><p>"Orders from Lucifer. Secure the Prince at all costs. The other two companions are disposable," said a surly voice. It was a Fallen. They were on the top most floor. The Fallen were the same ones that was at the altar when Lucifer rose. The first one was the one who broke a lengthy silence first. He had dark blonde hair cropped short in a buzz cut, sticking up at the front.<p>

His companion, a fiery red haired woman stood by his side, dressed in the same garb as him, a black ceremonial outfit. Armor of black and designed with the emblem of Lucifer on the front, similar enough to the armor of the Loyalists with inverted color.

"You think they got away on the elevator?" The red haired female asked.

"No way. Not a chance," The male replied. "See for yourself. Call it."

The female eyed him skeptically, then pressed the button for the elevator. "It's not working. It's not coming. It's been shut off."

"What do you mean, it's shut off? How did it get shut off?"

"The light isn't coming on. It's off," said the female. "I know how these human mechs work. I'm not that stupid."

"It's not possible. He couldn't have overriden the controls from the elevator itself. That would take hours to crack the code,"

_Slam._ Behind the closed elevator doors, a series of dents lined the edges of the frame. Both Fallen turned towards it just another loud metallic bash hit the doors right in the middle, prying them open with undeniable force.

"Howdy," said Dean, standing on the edge of the doorway. There was no sign of a lift behind him. It couldn't be that he climbed the shaft by himself. Not with the elevators shut down and exploding at ground zero.

"Get him!" The male ordered, charging forward.

Before his fiery little female assistant could even try to move, Dean cut her off with a red magic barrier preventing her from getting closer. "Fair is fair."

Dean's arm caught him around the middle, but the Fallen's momentum spun them around. He drew out his dagger, striking blindly for an area that would not kill but wound; Dean's arms, his mid-riff, his legs. The armor Dean had on was too thick to cut through for a killing maneuver. But it had to have its soft spots. Dean dodged each slash easily, caught his arm and twisted it around to breaking point, forcing the angel to stow his blade deep into the ball of his own neck. A carnal scream left his lips as he attempted to punch Dean in the gut with his free hand, missing by an inch when Dean sucked in his stomach.

The fallen wrenched out the dagger, bloody froth dripping from the tip like black liquid. His teeth gnashed together in rage. His orders detailed that he had to keep Dean busy. Keep him alive.

But to hell with the fucking treaty. He was going to die. He was going to die because this war had gone on too long and not on the day of resurrection was he going to fail. But if there was anything worth dying for..

The fallen crouched low, swinging the dagger in his left hand up at Dean's ribs. He was dextrous but not quite fast enough. Dean swung his right arm down deflecting the dagger with his sword, an arrogant smirk emerging from between his lips.

He stepped back, grounding himself with feet shoulder width apart, the left leg slightly back to aid stability. He feinted right and swung his left hand in a vicious hook and connected with the side of Dean's head. Pain exploded in the demon's ear drums at the crushing blow. Dean's teeth impacted and blood drew out of the gums, dripping from his lips, down his chin.

"Nice," Dean grunted, dodging another fist, catching the fallen's wrist, tightening until the bone broke in his hand and the angel crumpled down to one knee. "But you don't need to propose to me."

Dean caught the back of his head by the hair and punched him in the jaw.

Repeatedly.

Until each hit came with a sickening crunch as the fallen's nose broke, as his teeth shattered inside his mouth and his jaw disconnected from the mouth.

"I'm sorry, were you talking?" Dean asked politely, raising his fist high.

The Fallen's lips closed with a struggle. He spat out a wad of blood on Dean's cheek. It burned like acid. Dean wiped it off with the back of his hand and his hand burned too.

"I guess not," said Dean as the fallen slumped and left a trail of blood against the wall he fell against, eyes swirling blindly for nothing.

Dean raised his boot.

_Crunch._

The female screamed and screamed in despair. Dean remained relatively unconcerned, turning to her, crossing his arms as she wailed, unable to reach him, only able to see his broken body from beyond the fiery veil.

"You killed him! You killed him! How could you kill him?!" She screamed.

"Are you seriously asking me that question or is that rhetorical?" Dean answered lightly. There was blood splash all over his face, down his neck and dripping his armor like some inconsistent red design. Yet his face remained clear of emotion, even as he eyed down the corpse of the fallen angel and it began to take on a faint glow.

"There is an entire army of us united and ready to destroy you," said the female defiantly.

"Stop it, I'm getting misty eyed over here," said Dean, stepping inside the barrier towards her. "Did you bring them_ all_ here?"

"We brought enough,"

Dean's eyes swiveled to the end of the hall where a wall-sized window was in plain sight. He measured the distance between there and here imperceptibly.

But even as she said it, he felt them. Their presence was a menace and a blight upon the very realm Dean ruled. Ironic considering it was theirs before it became his. But the Fallen manifested before him from the shadows, standing one by one, surrounding him. Ten. Twenty...Thirty? Maybe forty. They were silent as they came...it was their job to be. It was why they were so feared. It would only take a small army such as this to have Hell in a civil war.

Because each and every one of them was Hell's elite. The first beings to walk the dark realms and immerse themselves in it. Hundreds upon hundreds of demons could not give ground to them. None of their faces were recognizable to Dean, but their power was immense. He could feel heat in the air and a distinct sound begin in the back of his mind. Like a thousand bees buzzing all at once. His teeth bared, but he found he could manage through the sound. Raphael wasn't kidding. Their tricks of the mind weren't something to be tampered with.

"Hello, Dean,"

It was only a voice like that that could make Dean's skin crawl.

Dean didn't turn to see him. Why bother? He was behind him. Like a coward.

"My, you've made some work of my brother...haven't you? "

Dean opened his eyes and saw the red haired angel open her mouth. She must have been silenced somehow.

"Turn around and face me. I want to hear your answers and see your face as you speak. Is this your choice then, Prince? Is this your choice to turn against me? Am I so unworthy of your respect that you deny looking me in the eyes as you proclaim your treason?"

Dean was visibly shaking, his hands curling into fists by his sides. He was surprised the force he was exerting wasn't breaking the hilt he held loose in one hand.

"Treason," Dean's voice came out as shaky as the rest of him. He turned around, slowly, ignoring the yellow-red eyes of the Fallen: the source of the dismal state in Hell. His eyes were on _him. _It was always impossible to look away from him. He was beautiful...even among these fallen soldiers, he stood out as the most beautiful. His features were perfected in every way. His bare chest glistened just slightly, and all he wore was torn black pants to cover himself. And yet this angel stood with his ranks like a proud leader.

"Answer me. Is this...your choice, Prince? Speak."

But looking upon a God could not deter the arrogance of the demon.

"Speak? Why not just _show_ you? Tell me, how many of your brothers are equipped to withstand the fires of Hell? This crown is _mine._ And if I have to die a traitor in your eyes...you can be damn sure I'm taking _all_ of you with me."

* * *

><p>He wasn't coming. He still hadn't come. The empty entrance was the worst sign he could imagine. Instead of finding it a relief, Castiel found it a severe omen. If there were no guards guarding the entrance, then that meant that every single Fallen in the building was aware of Dean's location. He was doomed. He didn't stand a chance against the assembly that Raphael gathered here. No matter who he was, no matter how much power he flaunted. If there was anything Castiel knew, it was that the King could bleed.<p>

Sam twitched in his arms but did not stir. Right. Get him out. Then he could come back. He needed to get Sam to safety. He darted for the entrance doors, ignoring the bodies that he nearly tripped over. Human bodies. Fresh. He could smell the blood and it did nothing to strengthen his resolve to flee.

The outside smelled wrought with freedom yet Castiel had no taste for it. He was barely ten feet away from the entrance when it happened. The explosion caused a ringing sensation in his ears. He ducked low on Sam in instinct, nearly colliding face first into a grassy bed of leaves. Wings curled to protect his body from the fire, but he could feel that heat sear right through bone and singe some feathers off as though they were made of thread.

Castiel turned his head, his eyes automatically drawn to the orange-red flames dancing in his peripheral. He coughed on instinct, inhaling lungs full of smoke.

No...Dean...He was still in there! He could be dead. He had to go back. He had to go back _now. _There wasn't a second to waste.

Barely in the act of turning, something collided painfully with his shoulder, slinked down his arm like a very hot snake and wrapped itself around his wrist, urging him forward.

"MOVE! We gotta move!"

"Dean-?! Where is-"

"No time! The second one's about to-"

Too late. The second explosion threw them off their feet.

Castiel lost grip of Sam, heading straight for a tree where he felt every bone in his body seem to break from the collision. He slipped down, hands searching blindly for Sam and finding him at the bottom, only mildly affected by the explosion, safely slid across a smooth sheet of grass where no piece of burning rubble had touched him. Castiel quickly checked his vitals and found them surprisingly strong. He stood up and watched the demon roll off to his front where he struggled to his feet.

"Running for our lives from an explosion caused by _you._ Is it Thursday already, Dean?" Castiel turned on him.

"You know what? I should really get way more credit than _that_ for saving the world. No, I'm fuckin' serious. I want a medal," said Dean, dusting himself off and crossing his arms.

"You just blew up the building,_ Dean_."

"Saved my ass, so yes," said Dean. "You should be thanking me."

Castiel panted roughly, one eye on the burning building. It was a calming in it's own way, but the relief washed over him at Dean's words as though he had just heard them. "...You killed him?"

Dean smiled, sweat and soot caking into dried blood on his face, but he still managed to make a dashing look. "Yeah."

Castiel half laughed, half sighed. He could have hugged him. But it didn't seem appropriate. The crisis was averted...they were saved...and even by Castiel's senses, there was not a single life in the building. Dean had killed the Fallen inside in that wreck. Only a fire this strong in heat could destroy a Fallen. It was his own spell...and what a strong spell it was.

Relief almost made him giddy. Such a travesty to watch Lucifer rising and quick as he had come, he was beaten down.

"That's...that's amazing Dean...You have done what many thought would be impossible to achieve..I thought for a moment there...that you had..."

"What, turned?" Dean regarded him with slight indifference. "Whatever."

"I was going to say died...I thought you had died," said Castiel.

Dean's eyes softened a tiny bit. "Well...You aren't going to get rid of me that easily. After all. I'm the spice of your life. I'm the butter in your biscuit. I'm the fucking corn in your cob. The pea in your pod. Let's face it, angel. You are unconditionally...and impossibly-"

Whatever he meant to say. Whatever smile Castiel could hear in his voice, vanished within a millisecond. It all happened in the blink of an eye. The fire turned white and emanated a glow that blinded them, but Castiel found he could still yet look upon it. It was an arm, made of that same light, the size of Castiel's entire body. It reached out with precision. Not a human hand, not possible. A claw. It took a hold of Dean's front armor plate and yanked him towards it with unbelievable force.

He didn't have to guess what it was. He didn't have to guess _who_ it was. Lucifer's light was unmistakable. He was the brightest being in all of heaven and hell. But the beautiful attribute seemed to wane as Castiel looked upon him. For the first time, he looked frightening, with blood matted in his hair, teeth bared, sharp enough to cut through metal.

His body seemed to have enhanced times ten. His gripped hand slipped just a few inches and found Dean's throat. His hold was tight and large, fingers overlapping. He squeezed and squeezed until Castiel could feel his pain. Dean gripped him back, hands around his outstretched wrist, pleading, yet defiant.

"Whose _crown_ is it?" Lucifer's voice was deep and gravelly, full of unfiltered menace.

The moment the words left his mouth, Dean's armor broke off his body in pieces, hovered around his body before reattaching itself in perfect formation on Lucifer. It fit him like it had always meant to be there.

Even the sword that Castiel had never seen him without left Dean's sheath as though and invisible hand gripped it tight and pulled it out. One minute it was there, the next it was in Lucifer's hand as he raised it above his head. Castiel was frozen for no more than a few seconds, taking all this in.

"No!" Dean suddenly yelled, his head turning towards Castiel as he was lifted off his feet. "ANGEL! Take Sam and run! Just go!"

Castiel drew out his sword instead, rushed forward at the speed of light, precising his leap just right to catch Lucifer around the neck and swinging around. His grip on Dean didn't falter, if anything, it tightened further. But he raised his weapon high, preparing for the killing stroke, to decapitate him.

"NO!" It was not Lucifer who screamed but Dean. That alone was enough to make Castiel pause. Enough to have his body thrown away from Lucifer as though he was a ragdoll. He rolled into the dirt, into the concrete of the empty parking lot, scraping various parts of his skin as he went.

Castiel raised his head, saw the fire as it consumed Dean's entire form. He screamed, and Castiel yelled with him. Something intelligible. Lucifer was speaking...but over the fire, he couldn't hear him. Over the sound of Dean's cries, they meant nothing. He was gloating...He had won.

He always won.

"Balthazar, location!" Castiel coughed out, forgetting to press a hand to his temple to forge the connection. His hand shook as he raised it. "Balthazar, LOCATION!"

But today wasn't the day to die. Struggling to his feet, Castiel darted for Sam, plucked him off the ground and just as he did, Lucifer released Dean to throw at Castiel. The demon fell, seemingly lifeless to his feet. No, he wouldn't allow himself to believe that alternative. Dean was as immortal and that came as easy as breathing for him. He couldn't be dead.

Castiel wouldn't linger here long enough to find out. Not here. Not ever. His fingers reached down, closed around Dean's wrist when he took flight and light speed, not daring to look back at the furious gaze that was burning a hole into the very fiber of his being. He caught a glimpse of a forested area and closed his eyes to focus with all his might upon that place.

* * *

><p>The trip was disorienting for a severely weakened Dean who dropped head-first onto a soft patch of grass whereas Castiel landed cleanly on his feet, supporting Sam's weight as well as his. Dean hadn't fallen very gracefully. A normal human might have broken their neck twice with that kind of fall. Dean pulled himself up and took in his surroundings.<p>

The second Dean made impact was the moment his power began to die out horribly. He was still alive, but only just. Lucifer didn't just take his armor and crown. He had taken more. He had taken so much more.. That magical effect that had taken over him, given him the upper hand against Raphael and the Fallen seemed to vanish as fast as it had come. For the first time since Castiel knew him, he saw weakness in Dean. The way he carried himself was like he had a heavy weight on his shoulders.

"Dean...," Castiel's voice was soft.

"It doesn't matter," Dean groaned. "It doesn't fucking matter. Nothing fucking matters to me anymore."

"Dean, listen...No one could predict that would happen...His power was very great...it's not unexpected that he-"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Dean growled.

They were in a heavily wooded area, but the place Castiel had taken him to was definitely a clearing. The most noticeable part about of this was the house itself. Like something out of a story book in a fairy tale. It was a cottage pretty much, sitting next to a very calm ravine. He was pretty sure it was just built or "created" in this case because it just looked that way. Like it didn't belong. He saw the catalyst for all that for the first time

The one named Balthazar exited the house.

"Took you long enough," said Balthazar when he was close enough. He eyed Dean up and down as the demon stood and straightened himself up. "This is him then...Your new...demon friend?"

"Demon friend," Dean repeated, dusting himself off. He was still disorientated and broken. But Balthazar's appearance distracted him, if only for a moment. "Haven't I seen you before?"

"Not in any way that matters,"

"Balthazar," Castiel interrupted before Dean could say anything more on the new title, holding out Sam for Balthazar to take. "The ceremony completed. They raised—"

"Lucifer," Balthazar finished for him, nodding. "I know. The entire legion is in disarray. Haven't you been hearing them?"

"Too close of proximity to...him, I wager," Castiel answered. But he waived that off. The High Command could wait for the moment. "Is there anything that can be done for this boy?"

Balthazar examined the boy, taking him fully into his arms and seeming to weigh him. He knelt and placed his arm under Sam's back. "He's alive…But only just."

Visibly, some tension released from Dean. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Hard to say. His power was utilized to resurrect Lucifer. There's no telling what happened. That power is gone, however…The cosmic power that the General spoke of…He is…human now,"

"That doesn't answer my question," Dean snapped. "Is he going to be okay or not?"

Balthazar gave him a stern glance. "I don't know. His body was ripped open to give way to the strongest angel is existence. Your guess is about as good as my own…demon."

Dean sighed as though the answer upset him. Then all the command returned to his voice. "Then do what you can for him. Do you understand? Whatever Angelic mojo you have to summon up. Do what you can."

And without another word, Dean stalked past him into the house. The interior was just as sickeningly sweet as the exterior if not worse. The walls were made of furnished wood and the whole entire house was full of items that didn't belong to them, reminiscent of a getaway cottage for a vacation or something.

There was even an upstairs that seemed to lead to two guest bedrooms. The only thing good about the home was that it was far. Perhaps out of state from where they had just left. He could not sense a threat nearby. He stepped on something plush and looked down to find a bear carpet.

Distinctly, Dean heard a television and investigate where he found Carmen sitting on a large three seater couch, eyes intent on the screen of the television.

"Have you seen this?" Carmen asked when Dean walked in. She turned the volume up on the television as a news reporter with black hair was standing just outside the facility that Dean and Castiel had escaped. Her headline spinning at the bottom of the screen read: "TERROR AT ST. MARY'S" The reporter went on to say that something of a massacre went on inside the hospital with every inhabitant dead including the staff and the patients. Human eyes could not see what Dean and Carmen could see. The black wings underneath their backs. Their charred, unrecognizable bones resembling bat wings attached to their spines.

The images were too graphic to display on television and behind the reporter there were police men putting up yellow caution tape and dragging out bodies in bags.

Carmen jumped up and squeezed Dean around the middle with enough force to stagger him just a little bit. "I was so worried about you. I thought you were caught in it all. I thought you were dead."

Dean wrapped an arm around her but kept his eyes on the screen. He didn't see so many bodies when he was there personally, but he didn't check the rooms either. These were angels and demons alike, and to the eyes of mankind, they would appear only human.

Carmen drew back to look at his face just as Balthazar and Castiel entered, carrying Sam to one of the rooms downstairs past the kitchen.

"How did you ever get out of there?" She asked. "It seemed like it was a massacre."

"It was," At this point it was no good to lie to this girl. "But we survived and it's over...Now our primary concern is taking care of Sam. I need you to do that for me. Can you?"

She swallowed deeply and the nodded. "Of course."

Dean's gaze went to one of the windows with a slightly blank look on his face. "I'm...going to think over some things. I'll just be upstairs. You try to sleep. Just try not to think and you'll be fine, all right?"

He cupped her face between his hands and waited until she slowly nodded before he let her go and turned towards the stairs.

* * *

><p>Balthazar raised a hand over Sam's body and the boy's body glowed bright blue. "...Castiel...His life is fading quicker than I could have imagined."<p>

Castiel crossed his arms. "Dean has a life debt to this boy. If he dies..."

Balthazar didn't answer immediately, keeping his back to Castiel. "If he has...then he must be released from it in order to be spared."

"Is there no other way?" Castiel asked desperately.

Balthazar shook his head. "A Life Debt is serious business, I'm afraid."

"Let me talk to him," said Castie abruptly. It wasn't an easy prospect, and something he didn't quite know how to intake either. Dean had been a difficult, stubborn demon since the moment he met him. But he had a feeling the demon's fight had been destroyed.

Dean wasn't in the living room when Castiel entered. Just Carmen curled up on the couch napping. There was a trail of footsteps in the fresh carpet leading upstairs. Castiel followed them and found Dean in one of the bedrooms, his palm pressed against the outside window, smoking a cigarette and keeping his back to Castiel as he eyed the scenery in front of him.

"Dean...," Castiel began, closing the door behind him. "We need to talk...Sam...There's not much we can do for him. His soul was ravaged by Raphael in the ceremony. "

Dean didn't respond to this, took another long drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke. But he moved, taking his hand off the window and wrapping it around himself so his elbow was supported.

"If...If he dies...You know you'll..."

"I know, angel...I know," Dean whispered, stubbing out the cigarette in his palm. There was brief scent of burning flesh before Dean closed his palm over the wound and it vanished on the spot. Now that Castiel was here, he got a closer look at Dean. Aside from the scar on his palm, he looked like a mess. That armor he wore before seemed to barely protect him. There was caked blood in his hair, there was various scratches and tears in his skin that looked painful to even look at.

Castiel took a step closer. "It's not over yet, Dean. We will find a way to save him. I'm not giving up yet."

Dean chuckled without humor. "May as well."

"Why do you say that?"

Dean closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Because we just saw my Father rise from the ashes and take my crown. What do you think is going to happen now, Angel?"

"I don't know...," said Castiel. He didn't know what to say to comfort him. Not with that deadened look on his face, that look that told him he was being childish for wanting to find a way. "Think back to the Anema. I never dreamed you'd come back and save my life...and you killed him to protect me. To save us both. We've made it this far, haven't we?"

The demon was a long time answering. "...To what end?"

Castiel took his shoulder. "Do you understand my point, Dean? You saved my life so many times. You didn't have to. You never had to. After all, what am I to the King of Hell? Lucifer collected you from Earth to spite God. To spite everyone in the Celestial Realm. I know that. I always knew that from the beginning...He did it...just to prove that even an innocent life could succumb to the darkness and even rule it. But you proved him wrong, Dean. You proved them all wrong. You are a demon, I know that. But a demon that doesn't want to destroy this world."

"I don't, Cas...But what does that even mean anymore? Nothing...Because the crown was never mine. Why do you think it left me back there? The crown. The throne. Becoming King... It was a title I held for this short period of time so he could rise again and claim the three realms," Dean buried his face in his hands. "It was always a game to him...since the beginning. "

"It's not a game to me," said Castiel firmly, tightening his hold on Dean. "Never a game. We just have to make our next move."

"We're nothing, angel," Dean remarked, looking up and turning to face Castiel fully. "Nothing. A fallen King and his progeny, two renegade angels. We're no match for him. And he knows this. Why do you think he let us leave? You think if he was truly worried about any one of us as a threat, he'd let us live? You underestimate Lucifer."

"Maybe," Castiel conceded, looking in his eyes. "But maybe I believe in something more than what you do. Maybe I have something you don't."

"Really...? And what's that?"

"Hope," said Castiel simply.

"Hope," Dean repeated it as though it was an expletive. "You have hope. Huh...All right, well I'm glad one of us does."

Thinking Dean was only making fun of him, Castiel began to turn away. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, then. I have to do what I can for Sam."

Before Castiel could turn, Dean caught his hand. "Wait."

Castiel stared at their joined hands just as Dean pulled him close and they were inches apart; Castiel staring into the eyes of the demon. "Stay with me. Just this once."

"Dean...What-?"Castiel began but Dean cut him off with a kiss.

"Just this once," Dean murmured against his lips. It was what he wanted in this moment. All he needed.


	21. XXI

"I'm right here, Dean," Castiel muttered as Dean pressed his lips to the angel's neck.

"No...," Dean all but growled the word, hands curling into Castiel's back like fists. "Not like that...Like this...I want you...I want...all of you."

The way he said it.

Dean's breath came out heated and strong, hotter than dragon's fire, breathing into Castiel's throat where he felt it seep through the layers of his armor. There was a hunger in his eyes that Castiel had never seen before. A desire. It consumed him, suited him perfectly for a hunter holding his prey. Dean lifted him off his feet, crushed the angel to his body and Castiel could feel his heat everywhere now. His kiss was primal and hard, his tongue battling for control and dominance, not even giving Castiel pause to react.

"Dean," He managed to breathe in a gasp when the demon finally gave him some air. He hadn't intended for this to be much more than a kiss but when he felt Dean's hand slip underneath the armor plate on his back, a sharp intake of breath froze him. Dean balled up the thin sheet of cloth under the metal and pulled. The sensation sent a tingling shock wave over his body and things got out of control. Blood began to rush through his body in an unfamiliar way with a surge of pleasure that he couldn't restrain.

"Don't you know, angel? I'll always come for you," Next to his ear, Dean's voice resonated against him in a thrum, driving him crazy.

Without a word, Dean spun them around and tossed Castiel onto the bed as though he was light as a feather. He bounced and stared at Dean as he crawled onto from the end like a predator closing in.

"Dean...We can't...Not here. Not...now,"

"Why _not_, angel?" Dean got to his knees between Castiel's legs, stripped off his tank top and unbuttoned his jeans, not taking his eyes off him. Castiel got a look at his body for the first time, saw the marks that touched his body where battle had overwhelmed him. Dean mesmerized him, but behind those eyes was an enigmatic demon too complicated to understand in a lifetime.

On the outside, he was a young demon without a care in the world, with a smile to release all the tension and brush it aside. The one to make you feel at ease even in the worst situation. He had seen him kill with the same passion he could see now. He'd adapted to this world like he had his own. A king among peasants, having the world kneel before him. It was a truth Castiel could never admit out loud that he wanted to understand, but never would.

Dean's fingers traveled under Castiel's bare thigh where his grip caught under Castiel's knee and he raised it up to his lips to press his lips to the hard flesh: fire on ice.

"Why _not, _angel?" He asked again, his voice lower. Castiel's rapid breathing filled the quiet vacuum of the room, mingling with his. As Dean released his leg and finished unzipping his jeans, he kept talking to him. "I want you, angel...More than anything."

He reached under Castiel's armor, his large hands gripped Castiel's hips and lingering.

"Tell me you want me, angel. Tell me you do too,"

Dean had always enjoyed pushing Castiel to his limit for the short time he had to experience his company. Whether that was patience or not. And now, looking into those smoldering green eyes...Every new experience put Dean's mark on him, and he knew it too.

Despite all of his minds protests...The only thing that came to mind was that it was all so fleeting. Love. Yes, he could finally admit what he felt for Dean was love. He could admit to himself that it was love that made him save this demon from certain death. He could admit that it was love that pulled him from the fire. And it was different from that inbred love he was made to give to his brothers. Much stronger. Much more meaningful.

And if this was his final moments on the planet, he wanted to spend it with him.

"I want this...I want you," He reached up to kiss him, but Dean only shook his head, dragging himself off the bed until he was off it, standing again. For a second, he thought he had disinterested him with the statement, but Dean only stood to the side of the bed, a finger pressed to his lip.

"Take it off. Everything."

Castiel's cheeks flushed with heat as he looked down at his garments. Then he met Dean's gaze with a question that clearly asked 'Can't you?'

Dean flashed a crooked smile. "You're quite a catch wearing your armor, angel. I would hate to break it in any way. Besides...It gives me future reference on the best way to remove it without permanent...damage."

And Castiel could see by the look in Dean's eyes that he _would _damage it in his haste to get it off. He couldn't help a faint smile himself.

Driven to the point beyond caring, Castiel didn't take long to make up his mind. Piece by piece, he removed his armor and boots, letting each plate and boot fall to the sides of the bed with soft thuds as Dean watched. He didn't tear his gaze away from Dean, not wanting to break their connection. With every garment he removed, the hunger in Dean's eyes intensified.

Now he laid bare before Dean, consciously aware of how vulnerable a position he had been put in. He had always been a warrior, and his armor was everything, he had never had the need to be completely nude. Never.

For the longest time, Dean only watched him, drinking in the sight of his body in full. Embarrassed, Castiel's cheeks flushed again and he wanted to look away if only to make Dean do the same, but he found he couldn't. Dean removed his loose jeans fully, letting them pool around his feet where he kicked them off and slipped out of his shoes.

He retook his position between Castiel's knees, slowly spreading his legs to position himself further. Castiel felt another hot tingle wherever Dean touched. "I take it you've never done this before."

"No," Castiel's answer came in a quick pant.

A smile curved Dean's lips and he crawled on top of Castiel, hands finding a place in the sheets beside Castiel's shoulders as the demon came down to press his lips against the shell of his ear. "Softly."

He kissed down Castiel's chest, teasing with a warm tongue and finding purchase on Castiel's nipple where he suckled and bit, eliciting a gasp from Castiel's lips. He found his own hand trace Dean's shoulder to his hair where he took a handful and pulled so the demon could meet his gaze. He saw what he knew to expect, that beguiling smile.

The demon winked and returned his attentions to Castiel's body, tongue flicking over the other nipple until it too was hard. Castiel arched his back as the demon trailed lower and lower, planting kisses here and there. He forced Castiel's legs apart with his head and shoulders and waited, waited for Castiel's breaths to calm.

Dean was still smiling when they looked at one another. He pressed a finger to his lips as if to quiet him. He kissed on each hipbone just as he raised Castiel's knees to rest on both of Dean's shoulders. Castiel opened his mouth to say something but his words were swallowed with a sharp gasp when Dean lips encapsulated him fully. Heat throbbed around him and he stifled a cry of pleasure into the sheets by grabbing a handful and pressing it to his mouth.

His warm tongue felt so hot and wet as it ran down the length of him. He teased, circling his tongue around him as he came up again. Castiel made a noise, grabbing onto the iron headboard behind him, indenting his body further into the bed. His fingers found Dean's hair again and he pulled, hard. Dean smiled, opening his mouth wide and engulfing the tip.

Dean's lips teased, receiving plenty of assurance from Castiel. He moaned Dean's name, giving plenty of reason to go further. He pressed his mouth further into him, taking in his entirety the best he could. Castiel moaned again, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as he pressed himself into the pillow. Dean pulled back, only to run along his length once more.

A hand clenched around his waist, digging his fingernails into Castiel's back. Castiel arched his hips further into him and Dean was more than happy to oblige. He circled his tongue around him with each swoop, teasing him with the slightest graze of his teeth. Castiel bucked and moaned, a spasm of pleasure shooting up his body. His breathing was more than ragged and he could feel how his chest was rising and falling at a fast rate. Dean swallowed as much of him as he could before pulling back once more. The rate in which he did was increasing, and the effect it had on Castiel was obvious. A string of incoherent words left his lips.

Castiel tried to muster out Dean's name a few times, but it never came out clearly.

"Come on, angel," Dean murmured, running his tongue down his length again. And Castiel felt it coming for the first time. But before he could even dare, Dean pulled away fully and took a hold of him with an iron grip that had his skin flush red from how tight he held.

"Not yet," The demon commanded.

Castiel's arms remained curled in the pillow where he knew he was in danger of ripping it to pieces. He gasped when Dean held him, preventing his release. Curiously, Dean's thumb ran over the tip, speculating. Castiel shivered when he touched the slit and he nearly glowered at Dean in defiance.

"What?" Dean tilted his head, that infuriating smile forming yet again. "What about me?"

"What-?"

Dean spread his legs and pulled up so their bodies flushed; Castiel panting in the face of the demon who pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and cut off his protests. He wanted more, begged for more, chased his kiss as Dean pulled away and watched as he placed two fingers into his own mouth and suckled until they were slick with saliva.

Caught unaware of what was coming next, Castiel watched Dean's hand disappeared between them. The next thing he knew was a sharp sting in his entrance. He gasped and cried out, but Dean covered his mouth with a kiss as the demon scissored his fingers inside, slicking him slowly and carefully. Another spasm left Castiel and he closed his eyes from the pain until gradually it faded into a dull ache and his body relaxed, returning Dean's kiss with equal enthusiasm, gripping his shoulders to keep him there.

When Dean pulled away, his lips bruised from the abuse, he locked eyed with Castiel. "Trust me?"

"I..."

"Don't hesitate, angel,"

"I...I do,"

Dean smiled, pulling away and hitching Castiel's legs around his waist for better access. His hands were tight on Castiel's hips and he gave the angel a small nod. Dean slowly slid inside with a single but forceful thrust. Castiel cried out, louder then ever before. He shut his eyes and felt moisture form, tears forming behind closed lids. Dean freed a hand to take a hold of his face, thumb brushing underneath his lower lip.

"Shh...Shh...," Dean soothed him. "It's all right, angel."

"Ahh...," Castiel groaned ,taking a hold of Dean's wrist just as Dean gave another thrust, pushing himself further until he was fully sheathed inside. Castiel gasped, wanting more. He could feel Dean's rising heat when Dean began to move, hips finding a slow but building rhythm of thrusts.

Dean released all of Castiel so they were only connected through his penetration. Perspiration began to form on Dean's body, rolled off his chest when he drew close, inches away, fists balled into the sheets again to keep himself steady and adjusted.

Castiel's hips began to move with Dean.

"Faster," Castiel gasped.

"Heheh," Dean chuckled, reaching down to capture Castiel's lips in a bruising kiss.

Castiel's free hand found Dean's other wrist and he growled the word in his own demand. "More."

A guttural, predatory snarl left Dean at the command. He took a hold of Castiel's hips, momentarily pausing mid-thrust. He positioned himself higher, on his knees, nearly bending Castiel's entire body in half. Faster and faster. Castiel felt like he was going to pounded into pieces. He pushed himself down just slightly, his forehead just barely brushing the pillows. A shuddering gasp left him when he felt Dean brush against his prostate.

The only sound that came between them was the low, hissing pants of the demon as he mercilessly thrust harder, faster into Castiel upon request. Castiel could feel his release, the one Dean prevented before. As if reading his mind, the demon caught Castiel in a tight grip, making the angel shudder and gasp and whine. Damned. Cruel. Demon.

Harsh gasps and soft moans left Castiel's lips. Against the sweat soaked bed, he whispered. "_Please_..."

"Please what," Dean growled through his teeth.

"Please, Dean," Castiel pleaded between breaths. "I can't...I ...I _can't_..." It was enough to push Castiel over the edge himself and come against Dean's stomach.

Dean's hands traveled up to around Castiel's ribs where he pulled Castiel forward so he was wrapped around Dean, looking down on him. Automatically his arms wrapped around Dean's neck. Dean's hands lowered and he guided Castiel's body down to meet his continuous thrusts.

With each thrust, came a word, spoken in a husky growl he had never heard from Dean before except in threat. "Give.. Me... A. ..Reason... To..._Fuck_-"

He cut off, releasing inside Castiel. Warm, sticky fluid leaked out from his entrance around Dean. Dean's face was a show of ecstasy and pleasure as he rocked Castiel backwards and lay on top of him, still sheathed comfortably inside.

He pressed his lips warmly, almost lazily to Castiel's. Dean broke the kiss to look between them, fingers twining around Castiel once more to slowly wipe him clean with a thumb and forefinger. Castiel lay panting and sweating until Dean, giving a faint, crooked smile, collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily.


	22. XXII

The morning rays hit Dean hard. He blinked them away when the sun peered inside and sat up. He looked next to him to find Castiel sleeping silently behind him, only the steady rise and fall of his chest providing movement. Dean adjusted the blanket more securely around his waist, pressed a kiss to the angel's forehead and sat up.

He got dressed quickly and silently, hoping not to wake Castiel up. He wasn't aware an angel could sleep. Perhaps he was on low-charge mode? He chuckled at his own train of thought, comparing Castiel to a battery.

It was only when Dean was on his feet that he realized he wasn't alone in this room any longer. Not Balthazar. Not Sam. Not even Carmen...

Lucifer leaned against the back wall as if he had been there the whole time, only partly shaded by the part of the room untouched by the sun. Tall, proud in his stance, in his walk. His bright blue eyes focused upon Dean with unwavering intensity. Yet when Dean caught his eye, he smiled.

"Hello, Dean," The angel spoke and his voice came like a song. Lucifer had, after all been considered the Angel of Music at some point.

"Father," Dean grunted, tensing. He tried to reach out to the rest of the house to detect whether Balthazar or Carmen were still around or even alive. But he found a mental block preventing him, like fighting against a rubber wall in his own mind that prevented from his extra senses from stretching out. How infuriating. Lucifer always did know how to get under one's skin. He was probably barely concentrating to control that. "Did you kill them?"

"Please," said Lucifer, stepping away from the wall. "If any of your new friends interested me, they'd all be dead. As it is, I'm only interested in you."

"And are you here to kill me too, my liege?" He said the epithet with all the mocking he could muster. Until a few hours ago, the crown was his.

Offense crossed the angel's features. "Why would I kill my own son? You're not in your right mind, Dean. I haven't seen you in ages, and your immediate response to me is a stance of alert and questions of threat?" Lucifer clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "My my, how things have changed."

"Then what do you want? I thought it made clear back there that I didn't want anything to do with you," said Dean, crossing his arms and leaning to the side.

"You never sent in your resignation," Lucifer replied coolly. "And even if you had, no matter. There is no resigning the throne of Hell."

"I don't have a throne. You took that back," Dean snapped.

"Touchy subject, I take it?" Lucifer yawned but he was faster than Dean could ever imagine. Right behind him in the beat of a heart. Lucifer was much taller than Dean and it showed when he placed his hands on Dean's shoulders and slowly bent down to rest his lips against Dean's throat. Fingertips were light and cold as they traced down Dean's bare arms. "Don't be so quick to throw away what you were given, Dean. This throne was always yours. It still is."

Dean leaned away from that touch in disgust and took a step forward so Lucifer's hands fell away. He looked over his shoulder to address him. "I'm not playing riddles with you today. I watched you die, Your Majesty. I saw that angel strike you in the heart. I almost died trying to protect the throne from them...and come to find...Raphael resurrecting you? You knew he was the one right? He killed you, Father. Was this your plan all along?"

"And you killed him," Lucifer countered. "Thankfully, too or I was going to have to do the dirty deed myself. Better you. He killed me. He brought me back and you killed him. If there's one thing I'm certain about you, Dean..." Lucifer's face softened. "You love so dearly. You loved Merrick, I know that. You mourn his loss to this day. I see it in your eyes. A father knows when his son is in despair, Dean. You avenged his death and my own twice. Despite all these..." He gestured to Dean with a dismissive hand. "...tantrums. You never fail to show how much you care for those you love and the realm itself. It brings me so much pride to know. _This_ is why I chose you, Dean..._This_ is why you were meant for great and unfortunate things. It was your destiny. "

"I've changed," said Dean angrily. He didn't know what pushed him to say such defying words but they came before he could stop them. "I am not your pet anymore. And I refuse to play this game. Whatever you're planning to do from here. Count me out. Do you understand? I want out. Now.'

He thought he was going to be torn a new one for that. But he was surprised. Lucifer only smiled, eyes twinkling in a knowing matter. "Come see me, Dean. Come _home_. We have much to discuss."

Dean's reply was cut off by comprehending 'Come see me.' Then he realized the nature of his unrealistic setting. Lucifer wasn't truly here and Dean was still sleeping. This was a dream.

"Clever," said Dean.

"I thought it fitting then coming to see you in person. You have three liabilities walking around with you and I daresay it would break your heart if I were to maim or kill any of them in front of you," said Lucifer. He raised both fingers. "But...Don't take that to suggest I don't know where you are, Dean. Not a very clever move on your own part, here. The strongest demon on the planet, my son...and you think me a fool if you think I cannot locate you or your three friends."

"Four you mean," Dean corrected. "You're forgetting Sam."

"I'm not forgetting...Sam. He's just a heartbeat right now...but unless you want me to permanently change that as well as the lives of your friends, you'll come see me," Now the threat was eminent in his voice and brokered no arguments. It was a Father bestowing a threat upon the offspring. Dean suddenly felt like he was a child again, making all the mistakes in the world and subject to his father's chastising. Even to this day, this damned angel had the power to make Dean cower.

Dean licked his lips once and looked in the direction of Castiel. A sleeping form that was an illusion. Angels didn't require sleep. Dean narrowed his eyes; defiant, despite himself. "If I come to you. You have to make me a promise."

Deals were what the devil was known for. Dean wasn't surprised when the anger lines in Lucifer's face softened with amusement. "And what would that be?"

"Sam lives. I know you...I know you have some freaky connect with him. And I know you have the power to save him... Whatever happens from here, you have to promise me you'll let him live."

Unfortunately, compassion wasn't what he was known for. Lucifer contemplated this, or pretended to. "Tell me. Is this out of fear of your own life's demise or do I detect a sliver of sentimentality?"

"My life means nothing. He has nothing to do with this anymore,"

"He has _everything_ to do with this, Dean. He's your incentive. Or… one of them," Lucifer amended. "But like I said...We'll talk _when_ you get here. You deserve an explanation and I'm happy to oblige you one. I just want to see my _boy_ in person."

Boy. It was the disrespectful word Lucifer called him when he was younger. Yet always laced with affection when used. He wondered now if that love had ever been real.

It seems he was giving Dean no choice. It hurt him to leave Castiel behind. He couldn't imagine what the angel would say when he saw Dean leaving. He couldn't even think of an excuse at the moment. But he couldn't see a way around it. Not when this threat loomed over his head. Dean knew better than to question Lucifer. He always came through on his threats, especially when it was a matter of not getting what he wanted. He nodded slowly. "I'll be there soon. Give me a little time."

"Excellent," Lucifer was delighted, clasping his hands together and heading for the door. "..Don't make me wait too long...And Dean? Bring the girl with you."

Before Dean could answer, the room was engulfed in light and Dean covered his eyes. He was back on the bed, wrapped in sheets and completely alone this time. The darkness of the outside told him only a few hours had passed. It was still night. Yet he had no hitch invading Dean's dream; a process that would take hours of meditation for even the strongest will user. It was an attribute of being his child, and he hated it.

Beside him, the empty space where Castiel would be was gone. He should have known better. Angels didn't sleep. Lucifer had been toying with him. He knew everything…including what transpired earlier.

As he sat up, the door opened and Carmen entered, satisfied when her eyes fell upon him.

"Oh good, you're awake," said Carmen, closing the door behind her. "Do you usually sleep naked?"

"Carmen," Dean pulled the sheets more on himself, nodding for his tank on the ground for her to grab. "Where's Cas...and the...other..one?"

"They left," said Carmen promptly, but then she caught his wide-eyed expression. "Not forever. Jeez. No...Um...I think they were summoned away. Anyway, the blonde one said they'd be back soon and he said he had put up some kind of barrier on the house...so we can't leave?"

Well, considering his "dream", things worked out better than expected. He wondered where they went and if this was all part of Lucifer's plan.

"Who summoned them?"

"Something about a General...?" When Dean looked alarmed, Carmen shook her head. "No, no...I don't think it's the same one. Castiel? He's the one who said that they're going to get help and that you shouldn't worry. Just stay put here until they get back. It shouldn't take long."

Dean had to give it to her. She even imitated the angel's voice perfectly.

Well, Dean would be breaking that barrier. He pulled on all his clothes as she handed them to him one by one, and then strapped his boots back on. "Angel is going to have to suck it up. We're leaving too."

"What? Why? No way. They said it was safe as long as the barrier's up," said Carmen, striding over to the window and poking it. "See?"

Dean sniffed. "That's what Lilith thought too in the manor. And you know what happened? A fucking Archangel broke through it. What do you expect when..." He could not bring himself to say that name. "Listen, Carmen. A Magic Barrier for the most part, means shit. There's a few things you need to realize about this world if you're going to be a part of it. A barrier is only as strong as the caster. And while what's his face is probably really strong, he's nothing compared to what's coming."

"What's coming?"

Dean should have expected that question. "Something big. But you know what we're going to do? We're going to meet it before it comes for us here."

"Why?"

Dean tied the last of his shoelaces together and looked up at her, flashing a small smile. "Because we're smart."

Without another word, Dean stood up and took her by the arm, dragging her from the room and pulling her with him as he went down the stairs. She struggled and pulled, not liking the pressure he was applying nor the forcefulness.

"Hey. Wait. Stop. Listen. Ouch! You're hurting me. Will you just stop and listen for a second? Why are we going to the bad guys if they're coming for us anyway?"

"Because," Dean paused in the middle of the stairs to turn back to her and his eyes smoldered with blazing fire. "Because I don't want a repeat of Rose Manor. Every demon slaughtered. Every single one. I don't want a _repeat_ of St. Mary's. I lost my Guardian back there. Do you understand what that demon meant to me and I to him? A whole lot. I lost Lilith...and Sam's...So much sacrifice. And if I am to get any answer that tells me why all of this had to happen, this is my one and only chance."

"But we can't just leave them behind. They're gonna be waiting for us,"

Dean continued walking. He wasn't going to let that guilt eat at him. He wiped Castiel's betrayed expression from the face of his mind. It was for his own good and he might realize that if he would be thinking straight. But he wouldn't be. Not after last night. He had trusted Dean to leave him alone and Dean was walking out like it was nothing. He could practically hear the angel calling him reckless and stupid. Especially with the world out there being the most dangerous zone he could enter.

"If I said we were coming back, would you believe me?"

"No," said Carmen honestly. "You won't even tell me where we're going. Why would I believe we're getting out of there? And no offense, Dean but you seem like you get into this sort of irreversible situation pretty often."

"None taken," said Dean. Pretty accurate.

"_Can_ you tell me where we're going?"

"You'll see. It's high time I showed you where you came from," said Dean, turning tail into the room where Sam was resting. Balthazar or Castiel had positioned him oddly. He looked dead with his hands crossed over his heart.

Dean placed a hand over his forehead, brushed the hair aside and planted a kiss on his head. He felt hot, like he was running a high fever. He knew only because his own temperature was burning, and to have someone not feel cold to him was out of the ordinary.

"I'm coming back for you, Sam…I promise," Dean promised, knowing full well that the boy couldn't hear him but wanting to get it out there. "I won't come back until I find a way to wake you up…I…"

There was more to say, but at this point, it was useless if the boy couldn't hear him. He wasn't sure if he could or couldn't. Who could wake up after being opened up to release the power of the Morning Star? Who could wake up after being used to revive him from the dead? It's not like there was a handbook that said what happened next.

"Let's go," said Dean, facing away from Sam at last, face hardening with resolve. Carmen gave him an incredulous look.

"Um hello?" Carmen said, outraged. "You haven't told me where we're going."

"We're going to Hell," said Dean. The silence weighed heavy when Dean pulled her arm and began to lead her out the door. Just like before, she fought the hold with all her might but to no avail. Dean's grip was stronger than iron and when he reached the barrier outside, something sparked around in in golden fury. It looked like it hurt, but he only frowned.

Dean raised a hand and the barrier shimmered a brighter gold then before, currents of electricity waving through, showing exactly where it started and where it ended. Dean waved his hand aside and the barrier hovered for a moment before dispersing in bright stars of gold and white.

"Wait, Dean," said Carmen, taking a hold of him now. "I may not know much about these things. I don't think I know _anything,_ actually. But isn't a barrier supposed to protect everything inside it? You're just going to leave Sam unguarded until we come back? What if he's not even there when we get back."

"You think I'm that stupid?" Dean retorted, then waved a hand impatiently. "Never mind, don't answer that..."

He stepped to the side, just outside the barrier that Balthazar or Castiel had previously put up. Dean closed his eyes in concentration. Within seconds, another barrier began to form exactly in place of the former. This one was red in color, glistening red and yellow like fire before disappearing. This time it wasn't just the barrier that became invisible. It was the cabin itself. It vanished as though it never was, only a blank stretch of land next to a river.

"How did you do that?" Carmen asked, amazed.

"I told you. A Magic Barrier is only as strong as the caster behind it," said Dean. "And the Celestials will be able to get through it since they know where it is…but as for anyone else, they won't be able to see it. They'll see…what you see before you until they go through it. Like us. Now, come on. "

He turned and began to walk with haste, stepping into the forest without pause and blending in with ease. Carmen followed him, close on his heels. He drew out his sword the deeper they went in and began to cut down everything in his path. Carmen was careful to stay out of the range of his blade, since he didn't seem to care where he was swinging it.

"So, on a scale of 1-10, how fun was your night last?"

Dean grunted in response. "If you can do me a massive favor and stop talking, that'd be great."

"Okay," But then she started humming. Loudly. And that stupid song from Snow White that the miners sang too. Dean tried his best to tune her out.

"Okay, Carmen. You can talk but please limit it, " Dean conceded.

"Can you explain how we're exactly going to get to…," She paused, exasperated with what she was about to say. "To…"

"Travel between realms is never easy. Otherwise everyone would be doing it. You have to go through Dimensional Doors and those aren't easy to find either," Dean explained, pushing aside tree branches, large ones, small ones like they were nothing. Pretty soon he was going to be paving his own pathway.

"Are we looking for one, then?" She wanted some type of direction, some type of answer while he was being so infuriatingly vague.

"There's one nearby, but we can't encroach upon it through direct passage. Dimensional Doors require payment. Sometimes it's an answer to a question or a riddle. Sometimes, it's an item of lower worth…Sometimes it's an item of larger worth. We never know."

"So we're going to the door then?"

"Yes," Dean answered, moving a particular large branch out of his way and Carmen was thankful. It looked like it might have snapped and hit her in the face. He broke it off at the end and let it fall with a loud thud on the forest floor. "I already know what kind of payment this damned door wants. It's a door to Hell. They never want anything less, anything more…then we're going to get it to them."

"So what are we getting?"

"What we already have. The blood of an innocent soul marked by Hell," said Dean, catching Carmen by the shoulder when she nearly tripped over one of the branches he knocked over.

She didn't even really have to ask, but she did anyway. "You mean...You mean me."

"Normally I mean myself...But as far as being innocent goes, I don't think I've made the cut for over three hundred years," said Dean promptly, giving her a sidelong smile.

"Is it going to be very painful..?"

Dean smirked, swiping down a neighboring tree just for the hell of it. It wasn't in his way. "Not while I'm around."

"What if I don't wanna go down there with you?" Carmen complained. "What if I don't want to play these stupid games? What if I want to go home where it's safe?"

Dean stopped. Middle of the forest. Complete darkness and she could see the gleam in his eyes as he turned to her with barely masked disdain. "Define home for me, Princess. There is no home. You call home that hovel the angel built for you? You think that's safe? Nowhere's safe at the moment, kid. Nowhere."

Lucifer's words rung in his head. _I daresay it would break your heart if I were to maim or kill any of them in front of you._

Dean's jaw locked. "You're going to have to learn what you are. It's irreversible. It's something I can't take back."

Carmen stared at him for a long moment, then she spoke in a timid voice. "Then…why'd you do it?"

For a moment, the slightest flicker of regret crossed his features. "It's not something I wanted to do. I never wanted to select a successor. I, myself was a successor. I never even imagined making one in all my life. Everyone who created one around me was weak to me. It was sentiment. No one can ever regain their humanity, so the only perk we have is to create another demon and covet like it's your child? But it's…wrong. To condemn a life to this. Why would anyone want to?"

"You didn't…want…me?" She sounded so hurt, that it was strangely palpable in the silence.

Dean drew close and lightly traced a line down her chin. "Do you remember much of what happened before you woke up with the angels around you?"

"Not much," Carmen shrugged. "He asked me my name...and it started to get blurry from there. I just said what came to mind...Is that weird?"

Dean dropped his hand and turned away, looking at anything but her, even a leaf on a tree. "No. It's not weird. I told you before. Your humanity has been obliterated. In time, your human memories may come back to you. But for now your body, your soul, your mind...it's all adjusting to the taint of corruption. Of my corruption."

"I don't really mind. It's not as bad as it seems,"

Dean scoffed. "It's exactly as bad as it seems and more. You just haven't realized it yet, because technically, the person you once were is dead to pave way for the new you."

Lucifer's words coming out of his mouth. How ironic. Except the way Lucifer used to say it made it sound like he had was voicing Dean's destiny to rule the throne. These were questions Dean had once. For others, always, never for himself. He never had a human memory in his life. Merrick created a demon child once, on a whim. It didn't well when the kid, a legitimate thirteen year old boy from the streets "woke up". That's what they called it when a demon regained their old life. Most continued off the beaten path. But some...some rare few harbored regret, wanted to go back to the human realm, actually thought they could. Merrick's child, was one of them.

It came out of nowhere. One day they were happy as could be, joining in all the fun. Merrick had been Dean's companion for long enough and for a while, even Dean got used to him after he overcame his scruples on the subject...

Then one night, the boy had a knife to Merrick's throat in the middle of the night, demanding to know where his parents were, demanding to know where his little sister had gone. The boy had gone back to his parents that same day with Merrick releasing him. Biggest mistake of his life. The boy had lost his temper and slaughtered his entire family after they realized what he had become. Oh they didn't suspect demon. Who would? Just a teen who had run off for a few years and come back wearing black with a look in his eyes that said he had been violated a thousand times over, body and soul.

Dean didn't hesitate when he ordered Merrick to execute him. Despite Merrick's pleas that the boy could be controlled. Despite the fact that he had never seen a demon go lower in begging, especially one as prideful as Merrick. It was for the good of the world that an untamed demon not be let free.

"_This is why we __**don't **__make them, Guardian. We allow fate to take it's course on them through the fires of Hell. That is how true demons are forged. Keep that in mind the next time you seek companionship. No one can make a rule on who deserves to become a demon or not. It's a complete and utter violation of the treaty."_

And now he had made one. Unintentionally.

Well, it was too late for regrets now. One day, Carmen might have reacted the same way. And he probably wouldn't even live that long. For now, he had to keep her close before she got herself killed. It was all he could do.

"Whatever you say. You gonna lead the way or not?" Carmen asked, putting her hands on her hips impatiently.

Dean got annoyed at that. "Don't be in such a rush to where we're going. I lied earlier. We probably won't be coming back. " Before she could answer, he changed the subject quickly. "Now I'm going to jump. I'm pretty sure you don't know how to do that. So take a hold of my arm. "

She obeyed without question. Her grip was tight on his arm to the point where she might have broken bones if he had been human. She probably didn't realize how strong she was holding him, and it probably didn't matter to her anyway. Dean bent his knees, closed his eyes and Jumped. They soared through the night sky, two bright orange meteors pushing against the clouds through sheer force of Will.

It was faster than angelic speed and much more efficient. No one unless infused with power of Will could see the two of them. Carmen screamed, hugging her body closer to Dean as he began to descend from two hundred feet in the sky. Dean absorbed all the impact when they landed in the middle of a deserted, weedy field. He was graceful, but she, was not. She landed on her front and used her hands to support the fall. Dean was reminded of Castiel taking him flying.

"Takes a bit of getting used to. We don't fly, so it's pretty much like we fall with style," said Dean, helping her up. He took a better look around them, at the tall weeds that nearly shielded them from view. The night sky that looked slightly orange; hiding the moon behind enormous clouds. He stomped the ground as if checking to see if he could pound it in flatter. Carmen watched all of this with a puzzled look. But then he made her step back.

What happened next was odd until she learned later what it meant. Dean took his sword, dragged it across the earth and made a perfect circumference in the field. It was impossible to see, but just by what she could see by watching him, his accuracy was all there. Once the circle was finished he fell back next to Carmen and raised his hand over his work. The circle began to glow a bright red, appearing beneath the grass and the dirt. The glow lit their faces and Carmen exchanged an amazed look with Dean before looking back. Dean didn't look so pleased. It was clear he wasn't exactly looking forward to this.

He hovered his hand over it in a steady circle and then upturned his palm and snapped his fingers. Immediately, the circle set on fire in huge red flames. Lines began to form, creating a burning crimson star. Carmen jumped back with a scream and Dean scowled, ushering her forward. He didn't hesitate when he took her arm and cut into her palm, spilling a few drops into the confines of the circle.

For a few seconds, nothing happened, then the lines of the stars divided the middle section into a portal full of red light. It was Dean who stepped forward first, his eyes upon the entrance he had made with disdain.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Princess. It doesn't look like we'll be coming back this way," Or any way for that matter. Who knew what was waiting for them at the bottom. He had to prepared, even if he didn't want to be. "You with me?"

She didn't even hesitate. Well, she didn't have much of a choice either. Through blazing winds that began to circulate around them, Carmen gave him a final nod before Dean returned it with the merest hint of a smile. He jumped through.


	23. XXIII

"Let me get this straight. We don't answer Heaven's call when they order us back to the Celestial plain, but we're going to answer this guy. Where does the logic you have vested in that brilliant mind of yours come from again?" Castiel questioned as they walked. It was all subtlety at this point, and it took forever to knock out two unsuspecting civilians to take their clothing. The angel who summoned them requested that they arrive inconspicuously and unfortunately, wearing full plated armor was a bad way to do it.

"Heaven can wait," said Balthazar. Balthazar certainly seemed to blend in more so than Castiel did, like he was born for this. He was wearing a full body black suit with a deep neck and a gray t-shirt underneath, and he wore it much better than Castiel. Centuries wearing nothing but his armor had given Castiel the look of someone who was very uncomfortable with their attire. Castiel had donned the old clothing set that Dean had gotten him: The black suit underneath a long tan overcoat. It wasn't the same one he picked out before, having destroyed it on accident during the battle with the Anema, but it would have to do. Again, the garments felt too light for him and not ample protection were he to get into a fight.

They were inside a nearly empty diner. Only a few patrons were inside and they looked out of place. Though it was a 24 hour diner, the two of them looked like they were on their way to rob a bank and taking a pit stop to catch a bite to eat. Or perhaps Castiel's imagination was getting away from him. There was only one other customer in the diner, a man with his green hood drawn sitting at the counter while Castiel and Balthazar occupied a booth.

Castiel's response was cut off when the waitress walked over and poured them both some coffee. He was disgusted by the drink, finding it hot and very strong in taste. His remained barely touched while Balthazar moved his mug for a refill, loving it.

"Heaven cannot wait," said Castiel adamantly when the shrewd waitress was out of earshot. "If we don't answer that summons, we'll be marked as traitors. You know what they're doing, right? They're aware Lucifer is alive. Every Angel tied to heaven knows. And us not being there is a really bad indication for the chain of command."

"Don't overstate our value," said Balthazar. "None of them notice we're gone. They're too preoccupied trying to form a strategy on how to deal with the unfortunate circumstance of our brother rising from the grave."

"You're the Commander of several legions, Balthazar. If we need help, we need to go directly to Michael,"

"That's where you're wrong, poppet," said a voice that made both of them turn in alarm. It was the man at the counter. He withdrew his hood and revealed his face.

He was good looking in his own way, there was a childlike quality to it in the way that he smiled a mischievous little smile that let the world know he had them all fooled. His eyes were yellow and gold in color, twinkling with amusement. His hair was almost shoulder length and light brown. He, like Balthazar, wore the human clothing proudly, even though Balthazar and Castiel could both tell he was no human.

"Good evening, Gabriel," said Balthazar pleasantly, raising his mug in greeting and inviting him to sit across from them.

"Always a pleasure, Lieutenant," said Gabriel in turn. "Or it's Commander now, isn't it? My sources say it is."

"Commander," Balthazar confirmed. "Have you met Castiel?"

Gabriel took a seat across from them and eyed the black haired angel. "Maybe once or twice in passing. "

"It's an honor to meet you, General," said Castiel politely.

"Please don't call me that," said Gabriel. "I haven't been General for a very long time. And calling me it now is just insulting. It's Gabriel. Titles are titles. And I'm thinkin' calling eachother by name shows more respect than a title ever could."

"Very well,"

Gabriel chuckled and looked at Balthazar. "Is he usually this stiff? I feel like I'm sitting at a breakfast table with Michael."

"Usually," said Balthazar.

Gabriel flicked his gaze away and pulled Castiel's untouched coffee towards him, taking a large sip. "Speaking of Michael. Going to him is about the worst thing you can do at this point."

"Michael is mustering up our forces for the battle," Castiel stated. "We have to go back to the realm and join him. We have allies. Michael needs to know this. Even the King of Hell is on our side."

"The King?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "You mean Dean."

Castiel stared. "You know him?"

"Know him...That's my nephew you're talking about," Gabriel replied. And there was no implication of a joke behind it. "I've met him. A fair few times to know that...He's not on our side."

"What are you talking about?" Castiel asked impatiently. "I was there with him. I've spent enough time with him to know that he isn't on the side of full-scale war on Earth. He wants Lucifer gone just as much as we do."

"And I know him well enough to say that's a crock," said Gabriel. "The King…or rather, the Prince.. is a prodigy raised by Lucifer himself. He was trained to kill and destroy our kind. He killed many, if you care to remember."

"He's different now," Castiel told him. "Balthazar. You know. He's waiting for us in a cabin not too far from here."

"Let me tell you something," Gabriel leaned forward, elbows on the table. "The Prince is an elusive. It doesn't matter what you may think. If the Prince enters the realm of Hell in this war, it's over. It doesn't matter that he doesn't agree with Lucifer. It doesn't matter that he's on bad terms with Daddy. Lucifer created him. The bond between an Fallen and the demon he creates transcends everything."

"You're wrong," Castiel didn't care that he was contradicting an angel far older than him.

"Castiel," Balthazar's tone was a warning.

"He's wrong. Dean isn't going to betray us,"

Gabriel sighed, looked away, focusing his eyes on a barstool in faraway thought. "I knew Dean. I met him...many times in his younger years, before he took the throne. You know how a demon is created, I assume? A Fallen, a tainted spirit...whether demon or angel, destroys a human life. The taint is marked on that soul and the soul is resurrected in the image of the one who killed it."

"I know that," said Castiel impatiently. "But Dean is diff-"

"He is different," Gabriel cut him off smooth. "He's the worst one."

"What do you mean by that exactly?"

Gabriel took a quick look around them, then leaned closer on the table to them both. "Where did you leave the Prince last?"

"He's in a safe...secluded place. We placed a magic barrier over the location. There's not a chance Lucifer can find it," Balthazar explained.

Gabriel shook his head. "Again, you underestimate the bond between an Angel and the one he created. It goes beyond everything you've ever known. They're essentially slaves to the whim of the creator. It doesn't matter if the strongest being in creation puts up a magic barrier."

Castiel lost his patience, slamming a fist down on the table. "That's it. I do not have time to justify myself to you. You left the legion long ago. You're not _my _General. I do not have to sit here and prove anything to you."

Gabriel sat back in his seat and wrapped an arm around the empty space beside him. "You don't have to prove anything to me, soldier. Go and see for yourself. See for yourself how hard it is to tame a demon. Regardless of your feelings..." Castiel opened his mouth to protest this and Gabriel held up one hand to silence him. "Don't think me a fool. It's all over you. You're in love with him."

Castiel pursed his lips and locked his jaw but said nothing, to which Gabriel smiled knowingly, his eye twinkling.

"There is no way to tame a demon. A demon's nature is a mirror of what Hell or another created for it. Trust me when I say that...I would know better than anyone," said Gabriel, and for the first time, that perfect facade of mischief and amusement seemed to fade. There was a dead, lost look that crept into the depths of those eyes. Castiel was reminded uncomfortably of what he sometimes saw in Dean's eyes.

"Does this matter? We're about to enter a warzone. I'm sorry, Castiel. But I don't think it matters whether this demon is on our side or not. The point is, we failed. Lucifer is free to walk this realm. And I wager, he's not in a good mood," said Balthazar. "It was us who executed him the first time. Wouldn't he want vengeance? I fail to see how his...prodigy has anything to do with it, whether he's on our side or not."

"You're wrong," said Gabriel, snapping his gaze onto the Commander. "You're very wrong. He has everything to do with this. He's the heart of this entire war. Why do you think Lucifer allowed himself to die? You've read the stories. The prophecies and all the hoopla. It was never Raphael. It might have been Michael before all this chaos occurred but not anymore. Lucifer will always rise. He will always lay claim to his throne. His 'execution' was supposed to incite the Prince into a state of madness that would destroy the three realms. This whole thing, was all part of the plan."

Castiel waited a moment, digesting this, swallowing hard. "But he proved Lucifer wrong once already. He never embarked on a war. He killed the renegade angels that entered the realm, but who wouldn't after such a breach in our treaty? He wanted peace."

Gabriel sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "That's...debatable, at best."

But Castiel had heard enough. Enough about these false politics. It seemed the only way to convince Gabriel was to show him personally. He stood up. "I'll show you. Dean is still at home. He can tell you himself. From there, perhaps we can do what we planned to do in meeting you: Preparing a strategy to actually survive this battle."

Gabriel sighed, finished up Castiel's coffee and set it down. He began to slide himself out of their booth. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

On the way back to the cabin, Castiel sincerely wondered why Gabriel had a distrust for Dean so much. He had acknowledged the demon as 'nephew' which was a familial title. Of course Dean literally wasn't his nephew. But he knew that Gabriel was once God's messenger and any message, any single one that was sent down the chain of Command to Hell started with Gabriel. In the old days, he had been Lucifer's favorite brother aside from Michael himself. The three of them had been God's favorites.

There was no arguing about that. Long ago, Gabriel had left them. He had just decided to strip away his title and hand in his armor. He hadn't fallen. Taint hadn't spread across his wings, and there was no news to say that he had betrayed the legion. It came as a surprise to Michael. The former General simply walked away from the Celestial Plain without a single word. Castiel wasn't present for it, but it was said that the General only gave Michael one of the smiles he was coined for before vanishing.

And he had been here ever since. Walking the Earth Realm, mingling with the humans. No Angel could locate him, not even Michael, though he tried. Of course, Balthazar was an enigma in himself in how he did it. He simply passed a long a message to a low-class angel stationed on planet that he wanted to speak to Loki. As Castiel knew, Loki was the God of Mischief in another religion, and of course, on this plane of existence; Loki probably _did _exist.

Imagine Castiel's surprise when Balthazar broke the news that it was Gabriel! He actually thought the old General had died. It couldn't have seemed possible that Gabriel was actually still alive after all this time.

Gabriel let them lead the way; a stranger with his hands in his pockets, taking in all of the sights. It would have been easier to fly, but not with so much danger going around. Night was when the demons came out, and there was no doubt they were on the lookout for Celestials.

Not that a demon skirmish was a bad thing at this point. But he had a feeling that Lucifer was looking for them. Not just for any celestial but for them in particular. After all, they were present when he had risen. Their faces weren't exactly ones he would forget.

And Dean...How could what Gabriel said be true? Gabriel was posing as Loki. And Loki was notorious for lies. So couldn't he be lying now? How could Dean turn his back on his ideals after what he said? After last night...?

Castiel was so lost in his own thoughts of Dean, of Gabriel...of what he had said and what dangers faced them that he nearly crashed into Balthazar. The angel had stopped dead, staring at the stretch of clean grass and trees next to a pouring ravine. It was a beautiful sight at night with fireflies rising from the surface, but Balthazar's expression was that of disbelief.

"What is it?" Castiel asked.

"This...," began Balthazar. "This...isn't my barrier."

As Castiel processed what he had said, Gabriel stopped at Castiel's shoulder. "Oh my. A demonic magic barrier. This one is quite strong, isn't it? I can barely see that...did you call it a cabin? Inside."

Balthazar swallowed a lump in his throat and glanced at Castiel. "Do you think he gave us access?"

"Only one way to find out," Castiel remarked, stepping forward and bracing himself. Breaching a barrier without invitation was painful if the caster was demon. He placed a hand forward and watched as his wrist was shone a brief red-yellow before passing through to the other side, unscathed. He sighed in relief and rushed forward, Balthazar hot on his heels. Castiel wasn't even aware that Gabriel hadn't followed.

He burst through the living room, expecting to find the sleeping Carmen where he left her. No Carmen. No. " Dean?"

No answer.

Castiel darted upstairs. "Balthazar! Check Sam's room!"

They split up...but Dean's room was empty when he entered it. The sheets were in disarray and he remembered placing them peaceably on Dean before leaving. Other than that, there was no sign of a struggle. The room was completely in tact, except there seemed to be a cold draft in the room. The windows weren't open...As he stepped further inside, something gleamed from between the sheets.

He picked it up. A simple, silver ring. The name "Merrick" was scribbled on the inside in perfect cursive. Merrick's ring. The only thing in the ashes of the demon's remains.

Castiel didn't even hear Balthazar enter.

"The boy is still there, Castiel. No signs of a breach or...battle, even. They just left him behind,"

But there was a gouging pain blossoming in Castiel's chest. It started slow, but it was the realization...that Gabriel had been right. That the demon had left. And of it's own will. He had taken his child with him and gone, leaving them behind...He didn't even care that this was what Gabriel said would happen, that this was an orchestrated act.

Dean had gone.

He wasn't coming back. He even left the last remnant of his Guardian. He left all his belongings behind...including Castiel...and...

Sam was all Dean cared for if not for Castiel.

His fingers closed over the ring until it burned and stabbed into his palm painfully. "I refuse. I refuse to believe he left Sam behind. Do you hear me, Commander? I refuse to believe he left of his own will. He was captured. And I...I am the biggest fool of all to leave him alone. He needed me here...and I left...This is my doing."

"Castiel," said Balthazar slowly. "I told you. There was no signs of breach...or even a struggle. He left on his own."

Castiel pocketed the ring and closed his eyes. No, he couldn't believe this. He refused to allow himself to.

He turned on his heel and marched downstairs, all the way to Gabriel who was still outside, hovering just outside the barrier, both hands in his back pockets, standing like he was a tourist.

"He didn't leave of his own will. He was taken," Castiel snapped. "Do you understand me, _General?_ Dean didn't leave us on his own. He would never leave that boy behind. I've known him a short time to know that he puts Sam over everything. Do you hear that? Everything. His throne. His crown. His Father. His-"

"His angel?" completed Gabriel. "I told you. You can't tame a demon of it's free will. They live off free will. He wasn't taken. If he went back to Hell, he went back on his own accord. And he did so because he belongs there. Because this was written before you and your demon had your forbidden tango."

"I don't care!" Castiel shouted, breaking through the barrier and grabbing Gabriel by the folds of his jacket. He didn't care that this was the epitome of insubordination. He didn't care that under any circumstance, he might have been executed for it. None of that mattered anymore. "I don't...I don't care."

He saw something flicker in Gabriel's eyes. Sympathy, or perhaps something more. The Archangel cupped his face very gently. "See."

It was a command. Before Castiel realized what was happening, Gabriel released him to press two fingers to his temple.

...Time...Love...Betrayal...These words rung in his mind as he was sucked into the void.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Hiya. The next chapters will probably be a side story within the story. Some sequences may play into the present day story so that it continues to advance. Again thanks to everyone for their continued support and I wub you all :3 **

**-J**


	24. XXIV

**Hell, 20 Years Earlier**

Angels visiting the dark realm was unheard of by the norm. Especially the ones coined as loyalists. It was only for special occasion and when they visited, they stayed in the castle, safe from the outside where "business" was conducted the usual way in the form of souls being tortured, fires being wrought and fights breaking out between lower class demons and the Fallen. It was a disgusting place to be in and the only location that had any sort of civility was the Tower where Lucifer resided.

Lucky for the angels that descended from the portal didn't take long to enter the throne room. It was a long dimly lit hallway with a line of souls waiting for their judgment. Each had a lost, confused sort of look to their faces as they passed the angels.

Yet none of them truly acknowledged them.

They weren't even phased that the angels were dressed in full armor and wings extended. Gabriel's armor was golden in color to show rank above the other two, with an eagle's insignia on the front armor plate while the other two wore silver to show rank as soldiers.

When Gabriel pushed open the doors to the throne room, the two angels he brought with him flanked, almost preparing for an assault. It was standard procedure to check every 100 years in Hell that the treaty was still in place and there were any amendments that they were made now. It was part of the agreement. Part of the culture even.

It was a tedious job but the treaty did state that no demon could enter the Earth Realm for any reason and it was the duty of the Archangel to make sure this was being upheld.

Lucifer's throne room was always grand and spacious for just one ruler and a few guardians. But curiously enough, it seemed as though every window had it's black curtains drawn, blocking out the view from the outside, which presented a darker look overall to the castle.

The King was sitting upon the throne as usual, one hand raised on the armrest to support his chin. When Gabriel walked in, he stood up to greet his brother, arms extended in welcome. Gabriel returned the embrace half-heartedly and stepped back. Beside Lucifer were his own two demons. One was named Merrick. The one they called the Celestial Cleaver. The other was the first demon that Lucifer created by the name of Lilith.

She usually dressed eccentric for the occasion but for once, her dress was simple and black with a long neckline. Her hair was long, sleek and black. She actually fitted the garments of her people. Lilith was the only demon that was an exception to the treaty. Lucifer let her roam the earth of her own will. Spoiling royalty, as it were.

"It's so good to see you, brother," said Lucifer, planting a kiss on his brother's cheek. His lips felt cold on Gabriel's cheek and when he pulled away, he felt a tingling sensation on skin.

"And you," said Gabriel genuinely. He meant it. Despite all of Lucifer's crimes and all of what he had done. He never stopped loving his brother.

"Come to see if the low level miscreants are behaving?" Lucifer sat back down. With a snap of his fingers, a chair appeared behind Gabriel and he took a seat while his two angels remained standing.

"Don't sell yourself short, Lucifer. I'm only following protocol," said Gabriel.

"Of course you are," said Lucifer with 'understanding'. "As you can see, we've been honoring our terms of the treaty beautifully. Not a single demon has stepped out of this realm."

Lucifer was the king of lies. And when he said those slanderous words, there was no telling how much truth was behind them. Gabriel just stared for a moment, and then nodded. "I can see that."

"Must we go through this, then?" Lucifer yawned.

Gabriel's jaw locked. "I'm only doing as I was told, brother. You know the procedure. I have to check in."

"Have you met the Prince yet?" Lucifer asked, unexpectedly changing the subject. He gestured around him vaguely. "Dean! Come out of hiding, little one. We have guests. Don't be rude."

Tiny. The boy was tiny. When he peered from behind Lucifer's throne, a pair of shining green eyes flickered over the three angels then back behind cover again.

"Come on, boy," said Lucifer, looking over his shoulder. "Come on now. Don't be shy. This is Gabriel. I want you to meet him."

"Your Majesty," Merrick interjected.

"He has nothing to fear in his own castle, Guardian," said Lucifer firmly, continuing to draw out the boy. "Come on, Dean. Meet your Uncle."

Gabriel had a weak spot for children. He always had. Small, innocent and ignorant of all the troubles of the world. And when he spotted Dean, it came as a shock. The boy was still human. Now normally, Hell was it's own soul-breaking system. Just being in one place long enough was enough to start feeling the hellfire scratch at your very essence. Aside from shocking green eyes, the boy seemed small and scrawny for his age. He had spiky dark blonde hair and pale skin. Lucifer had dressed him up in a white suit similar to his own and white shorts.

But this boy...

"Is this...,"

"The Prince, like I said," said Lucifer promptly. "Excuse him. He's very shy around strangers. But I wanted him to meet you."

There was a brief silence and Gabriel thought the boy had left with the soft pitter patter of his footsteps. Gabriel jumped when he felt his chair move just the slightest and looked to the side to find those same pair of bright green eyes peering up at him. Slowly, the boy set down an apple on the arm rest, then he ran away. Behind his Father's throne.

Gabriel plucked the apple off. "...Is this his normal for him?"

"Forgive me, Gabriel. That's his way of greeting strangers," said Lucifer.

To everyone's surprise, Gabriel stood and pocketed the apple. Then he approached the boy, kneeling so he was right at the side of Lucifer's throne. "Dean? Thank you."

Dean peered from behind the throne again. This time he was smiling a toothy smile. Gabriel returned the smile, holding out the apple and taking a bite. He chewed and then sighed in exaggerated contentment.

"My this is the best apple I've ever tasted. It's so good," said Gabriel. He held it out for him. "Would you like a bite?"

The boy shook his head.

Gabriel placed his free hand over his chest. "I'm Gabriel."

"M' Dean!" said Dean.

"It's very nice to meet you, Dean. You're a Prince, aren't you?"

"M' a Prince. My Daddy is the king. Daddy said you're an angel," said Dean, tilting his head. "What's an angel?"

Gabriel glanced at Lucifer. "Not taught him yet the views of the realm, have we?"

Lucifer smirked. "He's not yet ventured outside this castle. It's forbidden. He's not yet ready to experience the truths of this kingdom as of yet. But he seems to be responding well to you, Gabriel. He's usually very silent around strangers."

"Any child can respond well to kindness," said Gabriel, smiling at Dean and reaching forward to touch the boy's face. Dean was grinning so innocently back at him.

Gabriel ruffled his hair and stood. "I'm surprised at you, Lucifer. You haven't changed him yet. Or is he simply resistant to the atmosphere?"

Lucifer gave a small chuckle but the sound was devoid of humor as he surveyed Gabriel with barely concealed contempt. As usual, his voice was polite. "Are you implying something, Gabriel?"

"Merely commenting on the boy," said Gabriel cheerfully. "There's certainly nothing I can do about it. We were too late to rescue him from your clutches, and it was long ago. Why, this boy must be nearly five hundred by your years, yet he ages like a human, because he still is one. It makes me curious."

"You always were curious," Lucifer remarked. "You didn't come here to discuss my son with me, now did you? Shall we proceed to more pressing and boring matters?"

And so they did, with Gabriel reciting the terms of the treaty in a long drawn out fashion. Lucifer went back to lounging on the throne, nodding here and there at several points. Merrick looked dead on his feet, not even bothering to hide or cover his mouth when he yawned. Lilith remained alert, her eyes riveted on Gabriel's face as though she was drinking in every word.

But it was Dean that distracted him. Now that he was no longer a stranger to Gabriel, he sat on his father's knee, legs dangling. Whenever Gabriel met his gaze, he smiled brightly and waved. It was all Gabriel could do to not wave back and interrupt himself. He was just so adorable. So small and so innocent. So untouched by this realm. It was the only beautiful sight in Hell.

When he finished, Gabriel cleared his throat, addressed his angels with a nod and turned to Lucifer. "I think that should take care of it."

Lucifer's head jerked and he rose, setting little Dean to stand. "Oh my. Over so soon? Very well. Very well. Shall I show you to the Dimension Door, Gabriel?"

"Certainly," said Gabriel. Lucifer and his two demons were already walking past, anxious to get Gabriel to leave. He left him in brief reprieve with the Prince.

Dean looked up at him, slightly anxious himself. "Are you leaving?"

"Just for now," said Gabriel, getting down on one knee. "I'll probably be back soon. You'll be a little older when I come back. But be sure to not hide when your Uncle Gabriel comes around, okay?"

"Uncle Gabriel," repeated Dean. He held up a tiny fist, pinky finger extended. "Promise you'll come back to see me?"

Gabriel smiled, wrapping his larger finger around Dean's. "I promise. If you'll promise me something in return. Promise me you'll always know that you are special. You're a special boy. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

"M' special!" said Dean happily. "I'll remember. Thank you, Uncle Gabriel!"

He was pushed back a step back by those tiny arms closing around his neck. He was startled for half a second before Gabriel returned the embrace, patting Dean on the back. "Good boy. You take care of the castle, you hear? It's your responsibility."

Lucifer was waiting for him when Gabriel turned away from the child. He had merely given a nod to Lilith and she followed them. Lucifer probably hadn't heard them, but he had definitely saw the embrace. There was a speculative look on his face when Gabriel walked with him side by side.

"I have a proposition for you," said Lucifer.

"Oh?" said Gabriel, intrigued. "And what would that be?"

"My boy does not see past the Imperial Guard and myself. He's unaware of the nature of this place. I have Merrick looking after him, but he's forbidden to give a tour of the realm outside the walls of this castle. Even the windows are shielded for his benefit. He's too young yet to get a taste of what I have in store for him...However...I am looking to rectify that."

"Are you planning to change him?" Gabriel's tone had an edge to it. 'Changing' meant killing. Killing meant losing everything that made the boy what he was. He had known him less than an hour to know that that...was unfair.

"Eventually," said Lucifer dismissively. "Come now, Gabriel. Do you honestly think I would kill a child? My own, at that?"

The honest answer was yes. So Gabriel opted not to reply. They left the castle, back in the hallway with the long line of souls. He eyed each one of them. Each of these men and women had a flicker of their humanity left, yet unchanged by Hell's torture and torment. They were the future demons. The souls that the reapers brought in from the mortal plane.

"As I was saying," said Lucifer. "I'm worried about this sheltered lifestyle. Hell doesn't need a Hermit King in the future."

Gabriel stopped. "Then what are you proposing, Lucifer?"

"I'm proposing for a set amount of days each cycle you come down here, you take my boy with you. You show him the world above. The mortal plane is an infestation of cretin, but I daresay the beauty has not lost it's magic in the places I remember. I want him to see it. I want you to take him to see those places."

Gabriel was surprised to say the least. "You want me to take him to Earth?"

"Yes. As I am not allowed. I can't...and...you were always my favorite, Gabriel. I trust him in good hands," said Lucifer, patting Gabriel on the shoulder.

Well that was a lie. Michael was his favorite and vice versa. "And what's in it for you? He's a human. Taking him to the human world would run the risk of him wanting to stay."

"Of course there are stipulations to this, Gabriel. Don't be ridiculous," said Lucifer. . "My terms are this. You take him every one hundred Underrealm years. As you know. He'll age only one year by your definition. He's over five hundred years, retaining his youth and innocence. But it won't be long before the years catch up to him. He'll be an adult within a child's body. I wish to prevent that. Even at ten, he won't be ready, but his mind will."

"And then I bring him back to you?"

"He's within your care for three months. That's almost 25 years for us. My other rule is this. I do not want him to interact with any other human. See to it, that he does not. Thirdly...You will not tell Michael of this. It is not a rebellion if you are merely guarding a child. I know Heaven and it's...guidelines about being compassionate to the care of Man... And lastly, of course is that Lilith will accompany you. Think of it as my...precaution that you don't break the other rules."

Gabriel gave a long look at the first demon. She didn't look very pleased with the given task. But when she caught Gabriel looking her way, she raised both eyebrows as though baiting him.

And then he looked back at Dean. Was he worth the trouble? Dean caught him watching. Waved and took a bite off another apple. Gabriel waved back.

"You have a deal. I'll take him."

They shook hands, an understanding brought between them that had never existed before.

Little did they know that things would never be the same after that day. Little did Gabriel know just exactly what he was agreeing to.

* * *

><p><strong>Hell, Present Day<strong>

Down the rabbit hole they went.

Once Dean landed, he bent his knees and waited for Carmen to come out on the other side. She did, landing face first. He scowled and helped her up. Their fall had attracted the sound of the gate demons coming to investigate the sound. It was a cramped little cavern with red rock. Noticeably, it was hotter than anything Carmen had ever experienced on Earth. One hundred and ninety degrees at least. This was the best indication she had learned so far that she was no longer human. Her skin wasn't turning red underneath her clothes, nor was her flesh sizzling.

Demons were always grotesque in appearance. Elongated teeth, mutilated faces with burns and scars where they had been tortured. It was like the downsizing of man rather than the evolution. They never walked on their two feet like the Imperial Class. They always walked on all fours with their hands balled up in fists, strutting like they owned the place.

Two came this time. One much larger than the other. In his human life he must have been an athlete. Muscles and veins ran rampant down his bare arms with coarse hair sticking to skin. He flashed a yellow tooth smile when he saw them. Yellow as they were, they were sharp, capable of cutting through metal like it was made of butter. He and his companion wore scarcely any clothing, with just ripped jeans stopping just below the kneecaps. The second one was a little smaller than the other, but an equal disgusting in sight. Dean had gone past the point of being able to distinguish one demon from another.

"Well well well," It was difficult to understand the larger. His voice was slightly muffled, speaking through such large canines. " Look who we have here. The Prince himself...And you brought a snack. How thoughtful."

Not in the mood for this, Dean glowered. "Get out of my way."

"But of course, your majesty," The larger demon drawled, stepping to the side to allow him passage. "Everyone's been waiting for you."

He began to step forward and as soon as he was clear of the demons, they stood in place to block Carmen from coming forward. Dean turned, a growl curling in his throat. "Really now. Is the consensus to piss me off as much as possible before I reach the Tower? Get out of her way now too."

"No Imperial can pass through to the castle without undergoing the Rite," said the smaller demon. His voice was sharp, high and annoying like that of a loan shark on Earth. "Rules are Rules, your Highness."

Dean glanced between them and then at Carmen. "Belay that rule. Like Hell if she's not coming with me."

He held up his hand and a tiny ball of flames appeared floating in his palm. Both demons backed away. Strong as they were through brute strength, if anything enacted fear, it was the use of magic.

Carmen's eyes widened in fear. "Dean, wait! It's okay. I can stay here and wait for you."

It took a moment but slowly the flame died in his hand and he lowered it. But the fire in his eyes didn't disappear. "If I come back and she is in any other state other than the one she is currently in, I will have your heads put on pikes to display in front of the palace for the rest of the people to see. Do I make myself clear?"

He didn't bother waiting for an answer when he turned and began to walk.

"As you command, Your Highness...Run along now to Daddy, little princess,"

"Damn," said Carmen.

A smile curled Dean's lips as he froze mid-step.

* * *

><p>The young Imperial was quick in his steps as he rushed up the stairs to the Tower. Lucifer's palace, protected by all of Hell. It was the only safe haven from the flames of hell, from the torture, the painful screams of each soul being broken into halves to make demons. The heat curled around his small body, lashed at him with vengeance. The wind was scorching as it tried to sweep him off his feet, but still he persisted. Still he ran until the two doors to the castle burst open and he laid there panting.<p>

Two other Imperial Class guarding the front doors to the throne room took pity on him, wrapped their arms around his and dragged his further because he could no longer walk. He was out of breath. He was in pain. Nothing could take away what he just saw.

But he had made it to his destination. Lucifer rose when he saw him. Concern perhaps drawing on his beautiful features. The king was always a sight for his subjects.

"What is it? What news do you bring?" Lucifer asked, kneeling down before the demon.

"A massacre, Your Majesty. An unknown being breached through a Dimensional Door in the caverns. He's slaughtering every demon in his path. It's unstoppable! We cannot hope to destroy him. Your Majesty...He...He means to come here. To the castle," The Imperial drew out in a fast breath.

Understanding crossed Lucifer's features and eye twitched in some annoyance. "He always _did_ know how to make an entrance."

The confusion left the demon speechless. He shook his head, uncomprehending. But he didn't have to wait long for an answer. The lights flickered once, shattering light bulbs replaced by a bright red flame on each pedestal. The throne room was much darker than before. Lucifer looked up, past the Imperial's shoulder to the only thing that mattered.

The ground seemed to tremble.

Fire burst through the doors like an explosion had been set off. Red in color to represent the vibrancy of the soul behind the caster. Because only a soul with such strong Will could cast such power. When Dean stood, he was merely a shadow with a blade at the ready. Almost lazily, he swiped the air. A swordless cut. Both Imperial guards fell. The messenger who delivered took a nasty gash to the back and spots of blood appeared on Lucifer's face.

He dabbed at the spots with the back of his hand as he straightened himself. Pleasantly, as though he was speaking to an old friend who hadn't just destroyed his Royal Guard, Lucifer acknowledged him. "Hello boy."

Dean stepped into the light, teeth gleaming in a wide smile, ironical in every sense of the word. He sheathed his sword back behind him."Hello Father."

"I must admit...After how our last conversation went, I wasn't sure you were going to come," said Lucifer, stepping around the wounded demon and approaching the boy. He took Dean's face between his hands. "Alas. You managed to surprise me. As you always have."

He pulled Dean into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I have missed you so."

After a moment, Dean returned the embrace. "I missed you too."

Lucifer's arms tightened around Dean and he closed his eyes before pulling away to get a better look at him, taking Dean's face between his hands again. "My, how you've grown."

"I look exactly the same as I looked the last time we met," said Dean, pulling away from Lucifer and walking past him. Now the King could see who Dean brought. The girl.

"Is this her? Your new Guardian?" Lucifer asked, approaching the frightened girl. She may have been ignorant of the realm, but she was no fool to being in the presence of the Devil himself. It was no wonder she trembled the closer he got.

"She's not a guardian," said Dean, drawing out a pack of cigarettes and pulling one out between his teeth, casting a small fire spell to light the end.

"No, not at all. I can see the resemblance now," said Lucifer, nodding in understanding. "No, Dean. This one is...yours."

Dean didn't deny it, just blew out some smoke and gave Lucifer a stony look.

Lucifer circled the girl, hands knotted behind his back. "How young and inexperienced. You know, I distinctly remember you going on a tirade once on how pointless it was to create demon children. That they were useless since they didn't survive the fires of Hell on their own...That they were stripped of their home and environment and subject to this."

Dean flicked some ash off his cigarette. "I did say that. Once."

Lucifer smiled. "You've changed. You seem so different from the last time I saw you."

"I got a haircut," said Dean shortly.

" No, that's not all. It's your entire being. You _do_ realize I can see beyond everything you choose to hide behind? And I can see you, Dean. I can see you have changed much," said Lucifer. He sighed and walked past the pair of them to sit upon the throne. "Imperial, you are dismissed."

The injured demon who had been paying no mind to conversation stood up and proceeded to bolt from the throne room, shuffling past Dean and Carmen in a hurry.

"I suppose you think killing my fallen and every demon on your way here is a sign of rebellion towards me," said Lucifer, lowering himself.

"You wanted me here, one way or another. I was just trying to be quick about it," said Dean.

"And killing my soldiers does that?" Lucifer didn't even look mad. If anything, he looked mildly annoyed. "Whatever you say, boy. I have to figure out a way to reinforce our defense before we make our official declaration of war."

"Was that your plan all along'?" Dean stepped forward. "To usurp the throne that you yourself handed off to me and kill everyone? That's the master plan behind all this?"

"No, Dean," said Lucifer, resting his chin on his palm. "Never the plan. You were the plan. I was never meant to lead Hell into battle. You were."

"It was you who told me we were meant to balance out mankind. That we were to take the sinful, the fallen and the nasty wrench of the human race. It was our duty. You taught me that," said Dean.

"I did say that," Lucifer replied. "But did you truly think it was always going to be like that? I taught you what you needed to know in order to rule our people fairly."

"Then why are you here?" Dean spoke through his teeth in a low growl. "Why are you back? Didn't think I could handle it?"

"Didn't think you'd become a slave to your sentiment, boy," Lucifer retorted, equally cold. "My final sight in the last life was your power after Raphael delivered the killing blow upon me. You were overcome with despair, but more importantly, vengeance. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I knew then that you would destroy every celestial to come across your path. But then..."

"But then?"

Lucifer's face grew dark. "But then, circumstances changed. And when change occurs, the entire game board changes. I may be ignorant of certain things, but I am not a fool, boy. I made a deal with Raphael long ago to kill me and incite the wrath of the future king to provoke a war. And now you've killed him."

"He killed Merrick and Lilith. If you think I wasn't going to avenge them, then you're wro-"

"I'm not angry at you, Dean," said Lucifer, tone taking a lighter note. "I told you before. You saved me some trouble by killing him. But that's not to say that it didn't complicate things."

"Yeah, you worked with a loyalist to provoke me into war. You let yourself die so I could avenge you by killing everyone, I get it. What I don't get, is how you knew I'd fail. You brought yourself back. You must have been expecting I wouldn't succeed in your 'master plan'."

"On the contrary, I did not...but that doesn't suggest I didn't take certain...precautions. Sam was a means to an end if you failed. I didn't anticipate you _would_. I may not approve of Raphael's methods, but he certainly knew that there wasn't going to be a war with a peacekeeper on the throne in Hell. After everything, still you maintained your perfect little...obstinance. If you hadn't failed, then Sam would be just another boy with my extraordinary power hidden within him. Has it occurred to you that you walking into his life is what led him all the way to that altar where I was reborn?"

"So you used Sam. You used me," Dean growled. "You can lie and say 'ifs' all you want. But you knew I would do only what I was taught. By you. You counted on that."

"I counted on your newfound sentiment in the end. There is very little bargaining when one is set upon a stubborn path, Dean. Sam was my eyes and my ears. A vessel is a nonsensual being. He never was aware of my presence, but I saw. He was never aware of my touch, but I was there. And what I saw, broke my heart, boy. Abandoning your throne...For what? For that little speck of dust behind you? For that angel searching for you?"

"You have no right to judge me!" Dean shouted. Another fission of power left him, cracking the ground where flames appeared momentarily. He had no control of his temper in this realm. Lucifer's words were the same as taking a lash to the face. "You have no right to judge me when you worked with Raphael to make me your puppet king!"

"I did what I had to," Lucifer bit back coldly. "Everything I've done...Everything, I've done for you. Because I love you. I truly, love you. No one else that has ever crossed paths with you can ever say the same."

"Then why would _you_ do this to me? Do I mean _so_ little that you maneuver me like a chess pawn?"

"You were never a pawn. Always a king."

"You used me to show your enemies that you could corrupt a human bred from birth. You took away my human life," said Dean, voice breaking with emotion. "I can forgive all of that. But this? I break your heart, Father? You have ripped_ mine_ to pieces."

"It's not too late for you to do me proud," said Lucifer, standing up and approaching him. "This throne is always yours. It was never meant to hold another. All you have to do, is say the words. Say you love me most. And come back to me."

"Read my lips, father," Dean answered, closing the distance between them in one step. "I will...never join you."

There was a beat of silence, broken only when Lucifer inhaled deeply and nodded. "I figured as much, Dean...I thought you would say this...and perhaps expecting it made me think it would hurt a little bit less...But I was wrong. You are your own man and your own ruler."

Dean pointed behind him towards the double doors. "When I walk out, I will not turn back. I am done with this debacle. Whatever choice you make to go to war. I will _not_ be part of it."

He didn't wait for an answer before he began to walk away, grabbing Carmen's arm along the way to pull her along.

"I may not be able to make you change your mind. I may not be able to change what you've become. But I can kill what caused such a thing," Lucifer held up his hand, splayed his fingers. "Love is a weakness, boy. It's a hard lesson to teach, but one you must understand, not as a Prince, not as a King...but as what you are. What you truly are. You've spent too much time wallowing in the miseries of the past. I am the only one who can save you from yourself...Perhaps you remember your life debt to the boy you hoped to rescue. Perhaps you forget that it was my power that he used to destroy that prefecture. Perhaps you forget that it is only through _my_ power that he lives."

He curled his fingers into a fist and immediately Dean collapsed, clutching his chest. Carmen rushed over to him, grabbing his shoulder and rocking him as Dean began to turn blue like someone was clutching his internal organs and mangling them with an invisible fist. Blood began to form inside his mouth where he bit into his tongue and felt an answering scream of protest.

"God…damn it," Dean groaned, gripping his tank top to the point of ripping it into shreds. Red veins began to crawl up his face and it looked like his flesh was being cracked into pieces.

"What are you doing to him?!" Carmen screamed shrilly.

"Taking back what's mine," said Lucifer. "A life debt transcends time and space. Turn around, Dean. Kneel before your King."

"You're killing him! Stop it. Please!"

Dean couldn't talk. His throat had begun to close and he felt a soft, squishy something begin to creep up to his mouth that he choked on reflexively. Blood pooled in his mouth and he choked on it, coughing it out into a puddle in front of him.

"You know who else is dying right at this moment? Sam. It's too bad you're not there to see such an innocent die, Dean. It's what I saw when I killed you," said Lucifer, coiling his fist tighter until his palm bled and blood poured between knuckles.

That name seemed to put Dean into action. He summoned up all his Will, drew up all his power. The wounds on his face didn't close but his body took an eerie orange glow. It was all the fight he had left. After killing the Fallen. After surviving a blast wave that should have disintegrated him. This tiny surge of power wasn't quite so impressive when it drained from his body within seconds. He slammed his palms down on cold tile and stayed down.

Lucifer walked a line ahead of him until he was directly in front of Dean and so the boy actually was kneeling before him.

He looked terrifying in that moment. Just as he had before taking back the crown at the institution.

"Swear your allegiance to me," Just slightly, Lucifer uncurled his fist and a fraction of his power released to let Dean speak. He stopped coughing up his internal organs.

"No…Never,"

Lucifer's fingers curled again and Dean lurched forward, hacking out more blood. Carmen screamed in despair, gripping his shoulders. "Stop! Stop it!"

"Swear this prayer onto me. 'I, The Prince swear my allegiance unto the one true King of Hell. May I perish in my own blood if I disavow.' "

"Fuck…," Dean managed to gasp out, gripping his throat and trying to open his windpipe.

"SWEAR ONTO ME!"

Dean was all groans and gasps of pain. A deadly silence came between them with Dean continuing to moan from the anguish. He wanted to die. He didn't care what that meant to anyone, if it mattered at all. He wanted it to be over. He wanted the next stab in his ribs that came from each breath to be the last one. Death was worth all the horrid aspects of his afterlife.

Lucifer was a patient person, he remained frozen in place, eyes set on Dean. The Prince slowly raised his head.

"I...The Prince...swear my allegiance onto the...the...one true...King of Hell," Dean gasped out in a slow, drawn breath. His eyes burned with hatred. "May I perish in my own blood if I disavow."

The smile on Lucifer's face couldn't be more triumphant. A brief flash of red passed between them. A black chain link shimmered between their wrists before vanishing. The blood had been sealed. And the oath complete.


	25. XXV

**Earth, 10 Years Earlier**

It had been a long time since the deal between Gabriel and Lucifer was made. As promised, Dean went with Gabriel every year with Lilith accompanying them. Gabriel had taken him all over the world. He had shown Dean the seven seas, the vast oceans, the various constructs built by man in ancient times. But he honored his agreement with Lucifer and never took Dean to meet another human.

But deep down, despite the fact that the boy remained quiet and reserved regarding their visits as the years progressed, Gabriel had studied that face for a long time. Long enough now that he was able to read every emotion on Dean's face, despite the boys best efforts to hide them. Dean had always reacted in awe and surprise in his youth. Though he had aged a hundred each time, he hardly looked different when Gabriel met him. At least physically. It was his eyes that aged, his being, his soul had slowly caught up to him.

He was very mature for his age. The youthful vibrancy that Gabriel could recognize from miles away was slowly fading to a young man of few words and many secrets and hidden thoughts. He spoke when spoken to, showed interest when Gabriel prompted him. But other than that, he was changing. And Gabriel feared this was a result of Hell itself. Perhaps Lucifer had finally been honest with him. He still had his questions, but they became progressively less. And they often spent their three months together in silence. Gabriel didn't mind of course. He was a being that was far older and more experienced than the boy and took what he could from tranquil, quiet moments.

They were standing over a bridge in a small park in the middle of the afternoon this time, Dean leaning over the edge, staring at his reflection. Dean had changed much from his younger days. His eyes were as bright green as ever, but he was handsome. An angel would call him beautiful. Even by human standards, he seemed almost perfect in his features. Though he frowned now. Dean was an idealistic son. He rebelled against everything his father stood for. He had taken a liking to the garments Gabriel had purchased for him and for the last few years he hadn't grown out of them. A black t-shirt, a buttoned up, full sleeve dark blue shirt over and jeans.

To anyone else, he seemed like a very normal looking person. The people that passed them by were mostly female. It was a park after all, walking their dogs and flashing Dean with smiles. He never returned them. He didn't know what the scene looked like to the outside world. A father and son, maybe?

Dean was particularly quiet today. He had only greeted Gabriel with a nod before the Angel took him to this location. New York City. It was unsettling for him to remain so silent. Gabriel placed a hand on his shoulder. "Is something wrong, Dean?"

The Prince returned his gaze, and then looked back at the water, eyes narrowed on the steady ripples on the surface. "My Father….He wants me to see the Kingdom...after our visit."

"He wants to what?" Gabriel begged for repeat. "No. He can't do that. You're too young."

"Too young? ….Are you joking?" said Dean incredulously. "I've spent centuries locked in a tower _away_ from the Kingdom at his bidding.…. A thousand years, I've spent in fact...Guarded by Merrick and Lilith and...doing nothing but waiting for this chance."

"That is not your age. You're human. You are not demon. You're fifteen years old. You're still a boy. Not a demon," said Gabriel firmly.

"It doesn't..feel that way. I feel...so much older. I look at all these people my age...and I feel nothing like them," said Dean. Just on cue, a blonde man his age walked past, hand in hand with a young girl who was a head and a half shorter than him. They exchanged admiring looks with her resting her head on his chest. They seemed happier than they could ever be. "But you once said I'm no different from them."

"I did say that, and I stand by it," said Gabriel firmly. "Your years may measure differently, but you'll always be that little boy who offered me an apple that day in the throne room."

Dean smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes. "That was a long time ago."

"We also measure our years differently. I have known you for so long, Dean. I have taken you all over the world. How could you possibly think that I don't love you the most?"

"Uncle Gabriel...All I've looked forward to since the day I met you was these visits...but now I have the opportunity to see something more,"

"I've shown you the world, Dean. And I can show you more, still. Your Father told me to show you the world beyond his realm...It's your realm, you understand? This...All this...This is where you truly belong. And I can keep you here, Dean. I can keep you safe and happy. Just say the word and I will make it happen."

"I figured it out, you know?" said Dean, following the couple with his eyes. "I figured out what I'm to become ruler of.."

"You're to become the ruler of Hell," The voice made them turn. "Blessed as you were to not live a human life, that means nothing to you as it would someone living in this realm might think. "

Lilith had her arms crossed. She had dyed her hair a dark red that went down to her waist. Passerby stared as they walked past. She looked like something out of a slasher flick. One look at her expression told Gabriel that she had clearly heard enough. She was livid. Lilith never said much during these visits, in fact, she detested the conversation so much, she deigned to stand away from it most of the time. How unlucky that this was the day the first demon decided to tune in.

"The world Hell itself can draw fear. Fear of the unknown, of the after life. Hell is their future if they stray down the wrong path...But Hell is the underrealm. All of what you see before you. That is not your kingdom. This is what our Father wants you to see," said Lilith, gesturing all around them. "This world as it is, tainted by mankind. Before, it was lush and beautiful and full of beauty…now look at it."

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak but Lilith beat him to it, drawing up to Dean's other side. "This is why he made you see this, Dean. Because it wasn't always like this. This was once going to be our kingdom too. He allowed you to see this because he wanted you to see what we could have had if they..." Her eyes snapped on Gabriel. "...hadn't taken it from us."

"That's not why he made him see this. And he never made him. Dean always has a choice," said Gabriel, and he gripped Dean's shoulder tightly until the boy looked his way. "Always remember this, Dean. You always have a choice. Don't let _him_ control you."

"Wait...," Dean held up his hand. "What does she mean...they? As in you?"

"Dean-"

"I mean that his _kind_ cast us out of paradise, Dean. Look at your surroundings. Think of something ten times as beautiful. They were at peace and for no reason. Gabriel. Michael. Raphael. They cast us out and threw us into a fiery pit. They ruined our Father's name and call him the Devil."

"That is not true, and that is NOT how it happened," Gabriel growled. "Dean, I cannot make you believe my side of the story. But believe this: As long as I am here, no harm shall ever come to you. You have my word."

"They took away our freedom and discarded us like we were trash!" Lilith spoke over him. "And I've had enough of this. It's high time, you saw your kingdom for what it truly is. These vacations you have with Gabriel end now."

She grabbed Dean's hand and yanked him towards her with surprising force. Dean was pulled away from Gabriel, but not before he threw one last confused glance his way. Gabriel saw the tears form and felt his own heart clench. Lilith was but ten steps away when Gabriel began to follow. His civilian clothing to keep from being recognized at plain sight, simple denim he had used for so many years to masquerade as a human was beginning to fade into nothing to reveal his armor.

Was he ready to fight for Dean? Damn right.

"Wait!" Gabriel called, beginning to run after them. Lilith, checking behind her, vanished on the spot taking Dean with her. Gabriel froze and felt a scream of rage build up in his throat. There were millions of dimensional doors that led to Hell all over the world. And there was no telling which one Lilith had taken Dean through. Dimensional Doors usually never led to the same location after being used once. It was why _he_ had to wait for Lilith and Dean to meet him every single time they met.

He'd have to chance it with whatever one was closest to him. Closing his eyes, Gabriel began to frantically stretch out all of his primary senses to locate the first dimensional door that came to mind.

* * *

><p>Lilith wasn't gentle with Dean. She was in a hurry, throwing frantic looks behind her to keep an eye out for Gabriel following them. People stared as they walked past, yet she still wanted to maintain subtlety when she performed a jump whereas Gabriel could move at lightning speed if he truly wanted to catch up to them. He'd probably want to meet them at the dimensional door as a surprise.<p>

But there was no way he could locate them if she went to the furthest one. Even Archangels had their limits in power.

Lilith was cruel when she stopped a lone, young human girl on the lonely sidewalk, pretending to beg for the time. When the girl looked down and checked her watch, Lilith snapped her fingers and the girl collapsed to the concrete, dead. Dean watched in horror as Lilith collected from her a glowing white substance.

"You can thank me later," said Lilith. "Or correction: you'll understand later. A Dimensional Door _always_ requires a payment."

"What is that?" Dean stared at the swirling white around her palm.

"Her soul," said Lilith grimly, taking his arm hard with her free hand and towing him away with her. Dean fought the hold with everything he had. But his strength was weak. Lilith may have looked like nothing but she had the strength of a titan inside of her.

She led him into a very deserted factory that had been condemned by the public. He had passed it up a few times before with curiosity. The building had such a foreboding feel to it that it was a wonder when it was going to be bulldozed to the ground. Now he realized it would never be bulldozed to the ground so long as there was one of these doors here. He underestimated the influence Will Users had over the general public itself.

Lilith dropped the soul down and a red star shimmered on the ground before setting ablaze with burning flames. Dean jumped back into Lilith who kept a firm grip on him. Without so much as a single glance in Dean's direction, she pushed him in headfirst.

It was a long fall, and he felt the heat close in on him, choking him until he hit solid, rough ground. His neck felt like it had broken in several places but when Lilith landed beside him, he looked up at her, watching the hole they had fallen through begin to close as though it had never been. Lilith didn't delay a moment, she wrenched Dean to his feet and practically dragged him towards into the long cavernous hallway. Having usually utilized a Dimensional Door directly into the castle, Dean had never been here before.

"Where are we?" Dean queried as he pushed himself back to his feet.

"Your home," said Lilith simply, helping him up. He had never been here before. This hallway full of people dressed in ragged clothing. Time on Earth told him they were human and just that little incident with Lilith told him too. They had souls that were glowing inside their bodies, visible from the chest. None of them looked up as the two of them passed. Each had a dull, dead look to them, awaiting their fate. What was the line for? Then Dean realized when they got to the end. A demon dressed in a long black coat with it's hood drawn was marking the first person at the line and then that soul was dragged off by two Imperial class demons through the doors. It was these doors that Lilith was heading toward.

Dean gulped in response. He didn't relish the prospect of going through there. "Where's the castle?"

"Just ahead. Don't be afraid, Dean. These men are meant to serve you, and these souls will one day be your army. You have nothing to be afraid of in this realm," said Lilith, gripping his shoulder as she pushed the doors open. A blast of heat hit Dean square in the face and he coughed from the excess smoke. His skin began to redden, and he saw long crimson welts run down his arms where veins would be. The sky was black with storm clouds blotting any view of a sun. The entire place looked like ruins that had once been a city. With a pang, Dean realized it once might have been.

But it was the screams.

The screams of thousands upon thousands of souls being tortured and broken. The laughter, the cackling. It was every demon with a mangled face that laughed in the face of such of cruelty. Dean couldn't stand it.

When they entered the throne room, Lucifer was waiting for them, sitting on his throne with a smug smile upon his face. He stood when Lilith and Dean entered, arms extended.

"There's my boy," Lucifer captured Dean's face between his hands. "What adventure did my brother care to show thee today, son?"

Dean gulped, looking away, unable to meet his Father's gaze.

Concern colored Lucifer's features and he looked over Dean's shoulder at Lilith. "What happened?"

"These games grow weary, Father. It's high time you told this boy the truth. He got a mere taste of Hell just now," said Lilith, pointing at him. "His little ventures with Gabriel end now."

"You did wha-?" Lucifer began, voice dripping with menace.

"Wait," Dean interrupted. This time, he did look at his Father. "I saw it. I saw Hell...I saw...I learned what you want me to become king of...Is it true what they call you? Are you...the Devil?"

"These are words. Nothing you know of, Dean. The people. They call me devil because they don't know-"

"Father, is it true?" Dean demanded, placing his hand over Lucifer's wrist.

Lucifer swallowed, clearing his throat. "...It's true."

Dean nodded, as though finally understanding. "Is that what I'm to become as well?"

"Dean!" Gabriel's voice almost made the boy turn, but two Imperials with large spear headed weapons blocked his path in a cross.

"Listen to me, son," Lucifer's grip on the boy's head was nearly painful. "You don't have to be what they want you to be."

"I've seen what that entails, Father. I've seen what you want me to rule. And I...I just...I just can't...I can't do it."

"You_ can_ do it. You just have to believe you can."

"I don't _want_ to," said Dean adamantly. "I don't want to rule this kingdom. Don't you understand? I don't _want _to be you."

Hurt touched Lucifer's perfected features. "You're just saying that because you're afraid, Dean. But I promise you, there is nothing to be afraid of as long as you just believe in what you are. Believe in me. You are my son and there is no one in this world that I love more than you, Dean. Do you understand me? No one."

Dean placed his hand gently on Lucifer's wrist. "Then, Father. Let me go."

A long moment passed and to Dean's surprise, he was released. Lucifer stepped back so an arm's distance was between them. Dean had never felt so far away from his Father before in his life. But the truth was painful. He was never a demon. He was never meant to be here. He was meant to be up there, with them. What Lucifer truly feared, had come to pass.

Lucifer raised his hand, curled his fingers as though he was gripping an invisible hilt. A sword shimmered in the air red and black and he caught the black hilt blade. "You see this sword, Dean? This is the Sword of The King. Only a true King of this realm could wield this sword. Any other would die instantly by the touch."

He placed it on his palms and presented it to Dean. "Take it and show yourself that you are the King. The sword chooses its master. Whenever you're in trouble, whenever you're in a situation where you need to defend your life, this sword will be your lifeline."

"Don't take it, Dean!" said Gabriel from near the entrance. The Imperials had grabbed him now, restraining him. He could have disposed of them quite easily, but not with Lucifer so near. Killing his own kind was different, but an enemy...or would-be enemy was two different things. "Don't buy into his lies. That sword is enchanted to kill. Do NOT take it."

"Enchanted to kill your enemies," Lucifer amended, looking only at Dean. "Take your weapon, Dean. This sword is as good as a crown and it will choose you one day. Prove it, not to me. But to yourself."

Dean gave the sword a long look. It seemed to gleam while turning just slightly in Lucifer's hands. Tempting him. It was the most beautiful sword he had seen. If a sword could be considered beautiful.

But that didn't change that it was a weapon that Lucifer had used to dispose of countless enemies. To kill, to lead angels from paradise into Hell. His hovering hand curled into a fist that he dropped and stepped back.

"I told you. I don't want to be you," said Dean. "I want to go up there. Where I belong. With Gabriel."

Gabriel exhaled in relief, a smile beginning to form on his face from pride.

Lucifer's face remained unreadable for a long time, then he placed the sword on the ground. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, Dean."

Dean sighed, then drew close, wrapping his arms around the angel tightly. "Thank you." He whispered into Lucifer's ear. "Thank you...so much."

Lilith was all outrage as Dean turned and began to walk away. "Your Majesty..? You're letting him go."

But Lucifer didn't respond, just watched Dean's retreating back as he headed for Gabriel with a wide smile on his face.

"He did it, Gabriel. He's letting me go with you," said Dean. "We can go back now. We can start a life up there together." Eyes on the guards, Dean's voice turned commanding. "Let him go. We're leaving."

As requested, the two Imperials relinquished their hold on Gabriel who straightened himself up.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. He's not all bad, Uncle. He does want what's best for me. Come on. With you by my side, I don't have anything to be afraid of out there, right?"

The second the words left Dean's mouth, his body was wrenched forward. A spot of blood began to blossom on his t-shirt from the front. Horror filled Gabriel in the next second. Time seemed to slow when Dean fell. Gabriel moved too slow, too late to stop it. His arms caught Dean on instinct. But Dean was dead the moment the blast hit...

Lucifer was still standing there with his hand raised, one finger pointing directly where Dean's heart was. There was no triumph on his face, no regret, no mercy.

"Dean," Gabriel gasped, cupping Dean's face as it began to drain of color. "Dean. Hold on. Just hold on a little bit longer. Everything's going to be fine. Everything's going to be just fine. I'm right here. Do you hear me?"

But Dean was barely focusing on him. His eyes began to droop and Gabriel feared they'd close forever. Gabriel cradled the body closer to him. No, it couldn't be true. It just couldn't..

"What would you give...to hear my son call your name one more time," Lucifer dropped his hand and began to walk towards them. "What would you give to hear his heartbeat escalate from miles away at the prospect of knowing you're here to take him away? Tel me, Gabriel. What sacrifice is it worth?"

The despair was overwhelming. Dean could not be dead...His mind refused, but his eyes could witness. There was not an ounce of life in the broken body that Gabriel held.

Gabriel's eyes filled with water. "You killed him, Lucifer."

Lucifer lowered himself, his arm wrapped around a raised knee. "I have no need for a defect, Gabriel. He defied me, and he's paid the price for disobeying me."

_"He was your son_," Gabriel snarled. He could feel Dean's blood began to pour into his hands supporting him. "Your only son. He never loved anyone more than you."_  
><em>

"If you find my methods crude, Gabriel...You can always rectify them. What are brothers for?" Lucifer straightened up and turned his back on him. "I killed Dean for defying me. No one defies me in my own kingdom. But let us revert back to an earlier point, Gabriel. What would _you _give to see Dean alive again?"

"Everything," said Gabriel without hesitating.

Lucifer laced his fingers together and looked at Gabriel expectantly. "Then, show me."

He didn't have to be a genius to know what that meant. But what he did, he never did for Lucifer. Nor did he do because of Lucifer's goading. Gabriel placed his hand over Dean's forehead. Will flowed into Dean in the form of light blue energy, restoring his body functions. The wound in his chest closed until all that remained was a tiny scar and bloodied clothing. Dean's eyes snapped open and he moved to sit up but Gabriel placed a hand on his chest to steady him. His body felt like he was touching fire.

"Take it easy...Can you hear me? It's me, Gabriel...Come on, son...You can do it...It's me."

Dean blinked a few times, staring at all of them with incomprehension, then he pushed through Gabriel's hand with surprising strength.

And he stood, staggering a bit. Gabriel rose with him, hand on his shoulder to keep him from staggering.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, massaging the back of his head. "Where...Where am I?...Why do I feel so...hot?"

"The better question is...," Lucifer slid over to Dean's side, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him away from Gabriel. "Is, who are you, boy? What is your name?"

"My name...," Dean repeated in a whisper. He struggled with his thoughts for a long moment. "Uh...My name...is...Dean, isn't it?"

Lucifer patted him twice. "Good boy...You are Dean. Now, do you know who I am?"

"You are...," Dean speculated as he stared at Lucifer. "You are my..father, aren't you?"

"Very good, Dean. Very good. You are my son. You are my Prince," said Lucifer, briefly cupping Dean's face.

"I'm a Prince...? Of what?"

"We'll get to that," said Lucifer. Now he gestured towards Lilith. "This is your Guardian, Lilith."

For effect, Lilith curtsied then resumed her crossed-arms stance.

"And now to the best question of all to jog your memory," Lucifer steered him in front of Gabriel, holding his chin with the pretense of gentility. "Do you know this man? Have you seen him before?"

Dean squinted at Gabriel for a long time, even leaned forward as he struggled with the concentration. "...No?"

Lucifer barely suppressed a sneer over Dean's shoulder. "Think carefully now, boy. Do you know this man?"

"No, I said I don't," said Dean.

"Then he means nothing to you," It was not a statement meant to wait for confirmation. It was a statement meant to dictate a fact. "Does he now?"

"No," Dean confirmed. And that was the moment when Gabriel felt a sting in his heart for the first time. In all his time as an angel, he had never known heartbreak, had only heard humans speak of it...But this must've been what it felt like.

"Lilith, show Dean to his room," said Lucifer, releasing Dean and stepping around him. "You sleep, Prince..Rest...Tomorrow, I will explain everything you wish to know."

"Damn it, Lucifer," Gabriel growled, his hands curling into fists by his sides as soon as Dean was out of sight. "You knew he wouldn't remember. You knew."

"I know many things, little brother," said Lucifer idly. "I know that when a human is killed by one so_ tainted_ as you'd call me...Resurrecting said human breeds a demon. I also know that a demon remembers their human name...and the one who made them."

"You tricked me," said Gabriel. "You tricked me so he'd never remember me."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Gabriel. Every demon I've made has the capability of remembering their human lives...What makes you think Dean doesn't have that capability either? He's recalled his name...That's a start. Though I'm more partial to building new memories instead of dwelling on the past."

Gabriel advanced but Lucifer held up a hand and the two Imperials who restrained Gabriel before followed his movement.

"Don't bother," said Gabriel before he could be touched. "I'll show myself out. But, Lucifer. You'll pay for this. Mark my words."

"And you'll thank me. I'm fulfilling his destiny. And you have only been destroying it. You must have seen this coming. I think you always knew. Did you truly think I would ever let my son go?"

"I didn't," Gabriel admitted wryly. "But I hoped. I _always_ hoped."

"And that is what makes me the victor and you the fool. Goodbye, Gabriel. I feel confident we shall meet again."


	26. XXVI

**Earth, Present Day**

"That is something I definitely do not want to relive," Castiel found his body again. It felt like, during that whole experience that his mind had been disconnected from his body. Unlike with the memory he once entered with Dean, he had no physical form. He was a pair of eyes that witnessed the two memories in fast succession. Those images remained fresh on his mind. Though he had spent a long time through the looking glass, only a fraction of that time occurred in real time. A few minutes perhaps in a trance when Balthazar was holding him on the ground, gripping his shoulder tightly.

"Are you all right?" Balthazar asked, pulling Castiel up underneath the elbow.

Castiel was still trying to make sense of what he saw. "I...I'm not sure...I think I just witnessed his memory...Speaking of which...Where is he?"

"You mean Gabriel? I honestly have no idea. He disconnected with you after a few minutes and ran inside the cabin. My guess is he's raiding the fridge."

Castiel shook his head but that did nothing to still the dizziness he felt. "He showed me..."

"Make sense of that later," said Gabriel from the door, leaning against the side. "You got bigger fish to worry about. Tell me, do Exiles usually glow?"

"Do Exiles usually glow?" Castiel repeated. "What does that even mean?"

"It means that kid. You know the one you're protecting here? Is kind of going through a light show over here," said Gabriel mildly.

Balthazar and Castiel exchanged a quick look then bolted past the chuckling Gabriel towards Sam's room. He wasn't lying, that was for sure. Sam's body was alight with a bright light shining from his chest. Castiel rushed over, but fear clouded his judgement. He was afraid to touch him. What if what happened with Lucifer rising was happening all over again? What if Lucifer was coming to meet them?

"What's happening?" Castiel said loudly, his eyes snapping towards Gabriel. "Why is...What's happening to him?"

"I don't know-" Balthazar began.

"Life Debt connection. Your demon must be in trouble," said Gabriel vaguely from the doorway.

"Then, help him! Can't you do anything?" Castiel stood over Sam, hands hovering over his forehead.

Gabriel looked at Castiel for a long moment. "Why should I?"

Surprise colored Castiel's features. "Why not? He's..." Why should he have to explain himself to this man whose history with Dean spoke for itself? "You care about him too. And Dean cares about this boy. He would have never...ever connected himself to Sam if he didn't love him as much as you love him."

"Or as much as _you_ love him?" Gabriel inquired with his eyebrows raised. "I showed you what happened. Were you not paying attention? I don't give a damn about Dean or that kid. As far as I'm concerned, those two are the worst thing that ever happened to this planet. The world is going to Hell. The King and his Prince have won. If this boy dying right before your eyes and no sign of the demon around to stop his pain is not evidence enough for you..."

"He's changed. Do you hear me? He wants to do better. Why can't you see this?" said Castiel desperately. "Please, I beg of you. Help Sam if not Dean. He's just a child. He deserves no part of this any longer."

An unreadable emotion passed Gabriel's face, but it came too fast for him to detect it. He stepped forward. "He's already too far into sleep to feel the physical anguish from the Life Link between Dean and himself. Think of it as the deepest sleep you could imagine. If he dies through Dean right now, he'll actually go in peace."

"You know I actually defected because of something like this," Balthazar commented unexpectedly. " I had a General who was too cowardly to act appropriately. And guess what? Because of his actions, I had to watch a fossil rise from the grave. And here you are...Doing the same damn thing except maybe worse. You warn us all about this guy and now you won't lift a finger to help. That's classy, General."

"I showed Castiel so he would understand that what he's chasing...," Eyes narrowed coldly on the shorter angel. "will never be his. And that's speaking from experience. It's been foreseen. Lucifer will rise to claim this planet and his Prince will rise with him and together they _will _destroy this world. Or die trying. There are no in-betweens."

"I don't believe you," Castiel growled. "I don't. I believe _you_ don't believe in him. But I do believe in Dean. I always will. He's earned that much with me. I don't believe he's fallen yet. There must be _something_ you can do."

"You require more proof, then?" Gabriel challenged. "Very well. Move aside, Castiel. I'll show you myself."

He didn't bother waiting, just shoved Castiel aside and took his place at the head of the bed, hands over Sam's head. "What I'm about to do goes against everything the Celestial Chain of Command has taught us. Rule number one is we never go against Free Will of human beings. I'll base my actions off the technicality that this boy was never truly human to begin with. He is a vessel which gives him some resilience. Pray that he's strong enough to maintain his life. Pray that he's strong enough to withstand my power link."

"What are you planning to do?"

"I'm going to sever the link between Sam and Dean. It's quite obvious that being tied to the Prince has endangered this boys life and put him in this coma status. If I sever the link, more than likely he will awaken and resume a normal life with no recollection to ever meeting Dean or starting the uprising of Lucifer. That's the best gift you can give Dean at this point since it looks like he's about to die, wherever he is."

"There's nothing to be done for Dean?" Castiel asked, drawing close to Gabriel's side.

"Look. It's him or Dean. You want to go down to the pits of Hell and rescue Dean? Which by the way would prove unwise considering you'd _never_ make it to him in time, or do you want to save this boy? Consider your code, Castiel. Even if this boy means nothing to you, are you about to abandon him...for nothing? Our code says we never let an innocent die and correct me if I'm wrong but what did this boy do except fall into the wrong hands? AKA Prince Dean?"

Balthazar put a finger to his lips, speculating. If there was one way to play to the Commander's strengths, it was letting him know that an innocent may die. Even if he had never met Sam himself.

Castiel's eyes narrowed but he broke the gaze from Gabriel, glaring at the stretch of wall and stepping back as consent. "Fine."

"Wise choice," said Gabriel." Also another point to that. Lucifer would incinerate you the moment a celestial entered his realm. Especially. You. Lover Boy."

"Why do I feel like there's always a catch to this sort of thing?" Balthazar asked, crossing his arms. "There's a downside to this, right? It wouldn't be the most forbidden rule in Heaven if there wasn't a damn catch."

"Oh, of course. There's an enormous possibility that this whole thing will go south in multiple different ways. Don't say I didn't warn you on that. These things usually always end catastrophic. Lucky I'm pretty experienced in this sort of thing."

"What? Breaking bonds?" Balthazar quirked an eyebrow. "Isn't that supposed to be impossible to begin with?"

Gabriel gave him a sly look. "Never underestimate the power of an Archangel, Commander."

"Yeah, I'll start saying that when Imperial-Class don't literally cut them in half," said Balthazar.

"Like I said. I'm experienced in this,"

"Don't tell me we're about to get an Archangel showdown. I'm pretty sure it's forbidden for a reason. Should we be expecting Michael to burst through the windows now?" Balthazar rolled his eyes.

"Live a little, we're only breaking a _few_ rules. Here goes," He splayed his fingers down on Sam's forehead.

The process was unnerving to watch. Gabriel closed his eyes and there was no telling where he went. Only an Archangel of his might and age could probably withstand it. Especially with minds such as Dean's and Sam's. Castiel nor Balthazar could probably last that long.

And like Gabriel had said, there was no telling what could come of it. As Castiel watched, he found himself wishing he hadn't given the green light for Gabriel to do this. What if he was endangering their lives? On second thought, he never did actually give his consent for Gabriel to do it in the first place.

The calm mask of serene broke when Gabriel's eyebrows furrowed and he frowned. Some part of him was in the minds, and some part was still here, physically aware that he was in this room still.

"Something's wrong," Gabriel murmured in a low voice, though clearly audible.

" ' Something?' " Castiel repeated. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"What have you done?" Balthazar was quick to blame. "Disconnect, now!"

But Gabriel ignored both of them. His head tilted, still engaged in the trance. "The Link between them...it's starting to fail...Unbelievable...I...I...I cannot hold onto it for much longer. Dean's...disrupting the link, he's destroying it himself."

"How is that even possible?" Balthazar snapped. "I thought it impossible to go back on a connection like that by yourself. I thought the connection was unbreakable."

"Not...," The words came out of Gabriel in a struggle. "Not...unless he swears a Life Debt to...another...Dean...Dean, what...have you done?"

Castiel had had enough, coming close and taking the Archangel by the shoulder and shaking him. "What? What has he done. Tell me, damn you!"

But he was cut off by the swirling sound of lightning transcending the barriers between realms. Red and black power burned his hand on Gabriel and he was pushed back by an unknown force, falling into Balthazar and hitting the ground hard. The next thing he knew, there was a bright white light taking up the entire room. It was all wrong. It had all gone wrong. That was Castiel's last thought before he heard that sound.

Small, but unmistakable. A gasp. It was too small and soft to be considered by either of the angels present.

"Sam?" Castiel called as the light began to fade.

Sam had sat up in one swift motion, breaking the connection between Gabriel and himself. Despite the immense power that had just wafted through the room, Castiel and Balthazar were shocked to find Gabriel still on his feet, only slightly jarred from the experience.

"Cas?" said Sam, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"You're okay?" Castiel questioned, pulling off of Balthazar to stumble towards the bed on his knees.

"I am...," Sam began breathlessly. "I'm..I am...Where's Dean? I felt...I felt him. He's in so much pain...I could feel it...and now I feel as if...my head..." He ran a hand through his hair, massaging the side of his temple vigorously.

"What did you do?" Balthazar looked flat at Gabriel.

"I didn't do anything," said Gabriel, recovering composure quite easily. "I didn't sever the bond. Dean did, just before he swore a new one to someone else. Any takers on who that might be?"

Before Castiel or Balthazar could speak, Sam turned his head to him. "So he's alive? Tell me! Is Dean still alive?"

"He's still alive," said Gabriel grimly. His eyes went from Castiel to Sam. "But don't let that get you thinking it's a good thing. Your knight and shining armor just swore an oath of fealty to Lucifer. He swore his life to him. Whatever debt he had to Sam has just transferred to the King himself. You wanted proof. I just gave it to you. The boy is lost. To all who had faith in him. He's going to rise from the pit with Father and reign Hell on this entire planet. I'm not saying I didn't warn you or anything...but..._I kinda did."_

_"_And _yet, _I still don't believe that," said Castiel stubbornly, curling his hand into a fist. "I will never believe that."

"I knew Dean over four times as long as you have, Castiel. I think I kind of know what I'm talking about,"

"And I knew him just long enough to know that you are wrong,"

Gabriel threw up his hands, making a beeline for the door. "You know what? You want to commit a flashy double suicide with the Commander over there, go right ahead. But count me out. I tried to tell you, give you all the proof you need. But if you want to remain stubborn, be my guest. I am done with this."

"Where are you going?" Sam and Balthazar said in unison.

"Out. And you know what you might want to do? Y'know, stay productive? Why don't you get that kid over there to a safe family, far from all this. And once you're done with that, get your sorry asses back to Chain of Command and get to Michael. They're going to need all the firepower they can get. Sitting around here, hoping someone in the under realm is still on your side is going to get you nowhere."

"I don't understand," said Castiel loudly, pronouncing each word slow. "What has he done to you to make you hate him so?"

"Whatever I showed you was only a fragment, Castiel. Tell him,_ Commander_. You were there for most of it. I'm sure he'll have a grand ole time explaining everything. In the mean time, try not to get in the crossfire and kill yourselves," said Gabriel. And without another word, he slammed the door behind him. No sound of footsteps came after his departure. He had taken flight and left them in the dark.


	27. XXVII

"Maybe he's right, Castiel," Balthazar spoke. "Maybe it's time we just return to the legion. If we're subject to being lambs for the slaughter, that is our fate. Maybe that's the fate for defying Raphael."

"Raphael was an extremist and a traitor. You said that yourself," Castiel replied.

"I did but considering we're the _only_ ones who know what happened; Michael probably won't believe that Raphael betrayed us all by aiding in Lucifer's resurrection."

"What are you saying, Balthazar?"

"I'm saying we have no choice. If this is the end, then we have to defend this planet. We have to protect our realm. It's bad enough we didn't answer Michael's first summons. He's going to mobilize the legion soon enough, Castiel. We _have_ to be there. I'm the Field Commander. I have to lead the ground forces into battle."

"I don't understand," Sam interjected. "What is this about the end?"

"Perhaps we should have this conversation elsewhere," said Castiel, eyes flickering towards Sam who eyed them both curiously.

"Riiight," said Balthazar, catching on.

"Sam, we're going to be just outside. I'll explain everything in just a moment. You just sit tight," said Castiel reassuringly. "I promise. Give me just a few minutes with Balthazar."

"Who?" Sam's eyes flickered over Balthazar and back.

"Him," Castiel acknowledged. "Five minutes, all right?"

With a sigh, Sam nodded. As soon as their backs were turned, he rubbed his temples, no doubt still continuing to feel the after effects of being joined with Dean.

"If you want to go back, then go back. But I'm not going anywhere without Dean," said Castiel stubbornly as soon as they were in the living area.

"So you intend to take this boy with you then? On your perilous journey into Hell?"

Castiel pursed his lips, biting his reply. From what he could sense, Sam was an ordinary boy now with no special power. Not that he would endanger him even if he had all that power back, but it would certainly allow him to bring Sam with confidence. Now, Sam would only be a liability if he brought him along. And he wasn't about to let him get killed on Dean's behalf or his own.

Balthazar considered Castiel for a long moment, placing a finger to his lip. "Technically, Castiel. I _am_ your commanding officer. I can just order you to come with me."

"And I can ignore your order on behalf of my poor hearing," said Castiel smartly.

"I'm only kidding. I'm not going to force you. I could tell from the beginning that this was something you couldn't let go. Unfortunately, old friend, I can't go with you. I have an army to lead, after all."

"I know, Balthazar," said Castiel.

"Then I bid you well. For what it's worth, I do believe in your cause."

"So you believe in Dean, then?"

"I believe...," He seemed to hesitate answering. "I believe that you believe in him, that's for sure."

"Let me guess. You have some history with Dean as well. That is what Gabriel said," said Castiel. "I know you led the ground forces into Hell when Dean assumed the throne and destroyed the angels that came down to kill him."

Balthazar nodded. "I did. I was the one who ordered the retreat when I saw our forces getting decimated. Raphael disagreed with my order. He believed that we could still win...But it was futile. Dean was too powerful. In the end, I had to take matters into my own hands and take what soldiers I could with me to the dimensional doors to escape. I was almost the last one out...but he caught me."

"Dean?"

* * *

><p><strong>Hell, 3 Years Earlier<strong>

He was almost there. The light was calling to him like a beacon in a sea of darkness. He was running as fast as his legs could take him which of course, was faster than the speed of light. Flight would have been faster, but not with two wounded he was holding the scruffs of their underarmor. He had to get them out. They were the only survivors in this whole battle. Blood covered his view. Not his own Never his own. Blood of the angels that had been brought to this fight unwillingly, unknowing of what was to come.

It was becoming so close now. If only he could just make it.

Then a shadow took form in front of him, first a face, then a full body of a demon his height with unkempt, spiky black hair.

"Lookie here," said the demon..Balthazar stopped dead in his tracks. "This...is noble of you. Planning a trip somewhere?"

"Get out of my way," Balthazar growled.

"Do you have any idea who I am? They call me the Celestial Cleaver. I'm over three thousand years old and I just swore an oath of fealty to the new King. What makes you think you have a chance against me? Drop your soldiers and you will not be harmed."

"Why should I trust you?"

The demon smiled, raised a hand and snapped his fingers once. Balthazar could have screamed. Both angels, wounded, bloodied and broken burst into flame at the snap of his Will Power. In an instant, Balthazar was clutching nothing but plates of armor which he dropped the moment the heat spread into the metal.

"You don't have to trust me, Celestial. But you should believe that I _can_ and _will_ kill you if I have to," The demon's eyes gleamed then with the threat. And Balthazar knew he was serious. He couldn't even mourn his comrades. After losing so many, it almost seemed useless when only a handful got away to tell the tale, and he wasn't going to be joining them. Provided those angels even made it so far as the celestial realm without succumbing to their wounds beforehand.

"Imperial, take his arms," barked the Demon. He must have been a commander of some sort, or a demon of much higher rank than even the Imperial class. Rough, scabby hands caught under Balthazar's elbows. He didn't even bother looking up to see the face of this demon, he let his body go limp so he was easily dragged back the way he came with knees tracking through rock and dirt.

Hot air touched his skin like fire, and without the Will to control his own body, it began to peel at his flesh, burn his face and arms, wherever skin was exposed. They came upon the stairs and his knees hit each one painfully until they reached the top, the castle.

Balthazar could smell the blood before they even entered.

Every single angel that the king had killed was on the floor where they had been killed. Every single angel that had died had a place in the throne room. Their bodies were pale and wet with blood, lifeless from the Will that had been taken from them.

And there he was.

Ten times as frightening as Lucifer, yet his pose upon the throne was similar to his "Father". One knee raised upon the seat with his arm curled around it wielding the Sword of the King. It had echoed it's ruler with a design of black vines down the blade. Or perhaps that was through the corruption of the Prince himself. And a crown. The most horrifying crown he had ever seen crafted by devils. Made of metal and bone. Human bone more than likely. At the Prince's feet, lay the most noticeable body of them all. Lucifer. Dead, pierced through the heart by an arrow through Raphael's bow.

Of all the Imperial class demons that mocked the human appearance, this boy looked like he had never been human. His eyes were cold and pools of onyx, melting out the white. Down his cheeks there was a trail of blackened blood vessels going all the way down his neck into his armor where no doubt the path continued to his dead heart. Even the strands of his hair had darkened from the roots, where it was once lighter and more fair from the tips. The dead veins upon his face pulsed the longer Balthazar looked upon him. He was hideous in his eyes. Something devoid of emotion, of feeling or sympathy. He had murdered these angels in cold blood and he would do it again a thousand times over. There was no doubt.

This was the boy that Lucifer had torn from Earth. This was the Prince. This was the King. This was Dean.

"I brought you a gift, sire," said the demon who had stopped Balthazar, taking a bow. He dragged Balthazar to the front, and set him down on his knees. "Look at his armor. Looks like a scout to me."

"It's no scout," Dean's voice was like ice. He dropped his knee and looked upon Balthazar fully. Balthazar wanted to blink away and close his eyes to rid himself of the sight of seeing Dean in enhanced view. "He's a lieutenant. Second in command. Good work, Merrick."

The one called Merrick bowed again in appreciation and stepped to the side of Dean's throne.

"If you're going to kill me. I advise you get on with it, '_your majesty'. _I'd really rather not prolong something as gruesome as death. If I know you demons, you love drawing out the acts."

"This act is _far_ from over, Lieutenant," Dean sneered. "Your Commanding Officer killed my Father. If that's not a good reason to slaughter you and all the ones who tried to run, I don't know what is."

"He was caught trying to get some of them escape. I killed them," Merrick bragged, straightening the collar of his jacket.

"Good job," Dean leaned back in his seat, handing his sword to the Guardian and placing both hands upon the armrests of the throne. "This was a gross violation of the treaty, Lieutenant. If Monarchy is any currency in this realm, let me pose a question to you. In my shoes, what first declaration would you propose to your people?"

Balthazar raised an eyebrow. "Is this a trick question?"

"No, I'm quite serious," said Dean. "I wonder, Celestial. Have you ever encountered a person you considered family? That you loved more than your own life?"

"You just killed my _family,"_ Balthazar fumed.

"Because your family tried to kill me. Spare me your conviction, Lieutenant. Your legion came here preparing for a battle and I gave them one. So before you judge my actions, consider mine from here on. Because even if you should die, your demise would come knowing I_ rose_ from the depths to slaughter every single Flame Holder I came across."

"Then, _by all means_," said Balthazar slowly. "Your Majesty."

"Not before you cooperate," Dean stood from his seat. And even though he was much younger in simple years than Balthazar, he seemed to tower over him.

"I will never betray my brothers,"

"So you'd rather die, then?" Dean mused and laughed to himself. It was a cold laugh that sent chills down Balthazar's bones. Empty. Broken. He came close and Balthazar felt the heat of his breath on his neck. "When I'm through with you, you'll be longing for something as peaceful and beautiful as death, my sweet."

Balthazar pulled away from Dean and shook his head to rid himself of the feel of that heat. Hot as dragon's breath and full of lies like Lucifer.

"Give me the name of the angel who ordered this attack. Don't think me unwise, Lieutenant. I heard you giving the order to fall back and your General belayed it. What kind of commanding officer is all right with sending his men into a slaughter house? Yours. Now give me his name and I might just consider letting you go."

Well, he wouldn't betray his brothers...but Raphael? Why the hell not. So much death around him, and he couldn't shed a tear to mourn them in front of these demons. He hardly could call Raphael "brother" after this day. Tyrant. Prick. Asshole. There were so many other fitting titles.

"His name is Raphael," said Balthazar without hesitation. He put up his hands. "But don't think I'm telling you because I want you to spare my life. I know all about demonic deception. I'm telling you because whatever fate you give that bastard, he deserves ten times worse. Nothing was worth losing so many men."

Dean smiled. "I like you, Lieutenant. That's a good philosophy. I'm glad that you see things my way."

Dean retrieved his sword from Merrick's outstretched hands. Well, at least Balthazar was right about demonic deception. He didn't expect Dean to spare his life. The thirst of vengeance for his Father's death was too large to quench by letting an angel go. Especially one of Balthazar's rank. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. His last sight was Dean standing over him with the sword raised.

But the deadly blow never came. Instead, he felt a rush of wind and the sound of staggering steps followed by the loud clang of Dean's sword hitting the marble.

He opened his eyes to find Dean standing there looking livid at something over Balthazar's head. He turned to find Gabriel standing at the entrance, looking equally angry. The Archangel raised his hand and effortless, a wave of bright gold light sprouted all around them. The Power cleansed the entire room of the bodies that Dean had left where they fell. Only flickers of the Will in form of bright orbs of white light remained until dissolving into the air. Lucifer's body remained, untouched.

"Really, between you and the Lieutenant here, I think I'm losing my touch at genocide," said Dean sardonically, sheathing the sword behind him.

"You're not killing anyone else, your majesty. And you've hardly committed genocide here," said Gabriel stepping forward. The Imperial Knights stepped forward to engage him and he carelessly waved his hand and sent them flying into nearby pillars. "There are more of us than you can ever imagine and you've destroyed less than a fraction of them."

"I'm usually not one for mistakes...So. I can change that, easy. Starting with YOU!" The last word was bellowed. A blast of heat burst from Dean. The same one that had killed the angels. Balthazar extended his wings over himself for cover, preparation for the embrace of death.

But it never came. He felt a hand cover his shoulder and another pair of wings cover him as Gabriel hovered over him protectively.

"Like I said," said Gabriel casually. "You're not killing anyone else, Dean."

"Ah, the old trick... calling me by my true name makes you my 'friend', aye?" Dean sneered. He didn't seem at all bothered that his show of power did nothing. "It doesn't work on me, Doctor Phil."

"I am your friend. Even if you don't remember. Even if you never will," said Gabriel sincerely, standing upright and curling his enormous white wings into his back.

The words caught Balthazar by surprise. Them? Friends? How could that be so when Dean looked at him with such intensity that was in no way to be regarded positively? How could that be when this demon had mass murdered so many of them with barely a breath of his power?

"Guardian," Dean addressed Merrick without looking at him. He crossed his arms. "Do you recognize this man?"

"Archangel Gabriel," Merrick answered. "He was acquainted with your Father."

Dean chuckled. "You see, Gabriel? Just because you throw my father down the epic of all trash chutes doesn't make us best friends. In fact..."

He stepped forward menacingly and Gabriel shielded Balthazar from view. Without looking at Balthazar, he addressed him, just like Dean had done. "Lieutenant. Leave this place. I've cleared the path of demons. Report back to Raphael."

"General-" Balthazar began to protest.

"Don't worry about me," Gabriel reassured him. "I'll be fine. Just get back to Raphael before it's too late."

Balthazar didn't need to be told twice. He pulled himself up and made for the door, but when he heard Gabriel speak, he had to slow down. The Archangel hadn't been lying. There was so much sadness, so much love in his voice, it was shocking to hear an angel talk with this kind of tone. It wasn't exactly inappropriate...but it was...different.

"What have you done to yourself, Dean?" Gabriel asked, drawing close now that Balthazar was no longer an obstacle. "Have you seen yourself? You don't even look human anymore."

"I am _not_ human. And _know _your place in my realm, Celestial. You stand before a King,"

"I stand before a broken soul," Gabriel corrected. "I didn't come here to argue with you, Dean. I just wanted to ascertain your condition after I heard of the invasion. I expected to find you dead...but I never dared to expect I'd find much worse."

"What are you on about," Dean growled venomously.

"You are lost, Dean. Lost by your thirst for vengeance that has driven you to madness. Can you not see it? Can you not see that this is what he," Gabriel nodded towards Lucifer's body. "wanted all along? He _wanted_ you to fall, to become a monster so that you could prove to the heavens that even an innocent life could be destroyed by darkness."

"What you say means nothing to me," spat Dean. "Fight or be killed, Celestial. I am done with you."

He advanced to strike through raw, primal force alone, but Gabriel held up a hand. Merrick was immobilized in the same second, faintly glowing bright gold.

Dean took the distraction to look towards his Guardian when Gabriel approached, too close and took Dean by the cheek. The moment they made contact, a cry resounded through the air. It couldn't have been human, but it sounded so. The pain was Dean's.

The pain that he had suppressed and converted into rage. To Balthazar's amazement, the signs of corruption began to vanish off Dean, his skin and hair returning to a normal color, the darkness pulling from his pupils until they burned bright red then green. Something sparkled on Dean's cheek. A tear.

"This is your curse. Your raison d'etre, Dean. I cannot fully undo what Lucifer has done to you. Your burden is your heart. The dark taint no longer plagues it. You are and always will be demon, Dean...But your heart will always be human,"

Dean grunted and one hand curled around Gabriel's wrist. "What...have you done to me?"

"I've given you purpose. A heart devoid of love and humanity, is not a heart at all," said Gabriel softly. "Forgive me, Dean. But it must be done."

He released him and Dean collapsed as though dead to the ground on his side. The crown rolled off his head and settled face up a foot away. But he wasn't dead. Gabriel gave him a long look then turned, vanishing on the spot.

Balthazar couldn't wait a moment to follow him. He didn't know what Gabriel did, but it could not have been anything good. He too, made haste for the dimensional door that Gabriel had directed him to before without a second look back.

* * *

><p>It took ages for Gabriel's spell to wear off Merrick. He had witnessed the whole thing, but he could not have done a damn thing about it. Not even a scream to warn him. But movement came slow. He felt his fingers tingle first. Then his toes. Soon impatience broke and he summoned up all the Will he could use to unfreeze himself. As soon as he did, his legs gave in and he collapsed to his knees. But his own injuries meant nothing. All that mattered was the king.<p>

He rushed over to him, shook him once, but Dean didn't move.

"Your Majesty, please," Merrick pleaded. "Wake up, your Majesty, I beg you. It's me, Merrick."

He wasn't dead. Demons turned to ash when killed.

But he wasn't waking up either.

A sudden gasp made all of Merrick's worries vanish. But the eyes that met his weren't the black that marked a demon. Green and bright like a human. Like when Dean was human.

But that didn't matter right now.

"Oh, your Majesty, you're all right," Merrick could have sobbed as he hugged the King with all the strength he had which wasn't much after that spell.

Dean didn't return the embrace, if anything, he looked confused. He got to his feet in a struggle, Merrick hovering like he wanted to help but not sure if he should touch him anymore.

"Fucking head hurts," Dean muttered, running a hand through sweaty hair.

"Are you unwell? Shall I go fetch for some water?"

"No," said Dean. "I'm fine."

He caught sight of his crown and with a brief flick of his wrist, the crown was back atop his head. Slightly limping, Dean began to walk towards the throne.

"You rest, your Majesty. I will send word for your orders regarding the siege later, perhaps," said Merrick.

"Siege," Dean repeated. The word sounded foreign on his lips. Before Merrick dragged that worthless lieutenant inside, this word was all that made the King happy. The siege of Earth to kill and maim every Celestial and human that was in their path. To build their army and avenge his Father.

"Merrick, destroy my Father's body," said Dean. "I don't relish the prospect of him remaining here in death so disrespectfully."

"Yes, your majesty," Merrick bowed.

"And send word to our commanders that their will _not _be a retaliation to this incident," said Dean. So the King was aware of what happened. His memory hadn't been robbed at least.

"But sire," Merrick protested. "How can you say that? Look at what they've done!"

"We're exactly where we belong, Guardian," said Dean firmly with high authority in his voice that he lacked before. "_Exactly _where we belong. Maintaining the natural order. Anything to intrude upon that would be unwise on our part and we'd be lambs to the slaughter. I have given you my orders. See to it that they are obeyed."

"I...," Merrick's retort died. "...Yes, your Majesty."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And so concludes all the side stories. w00t.**


	28. XXVIII

The Prince's room was not what anyone would expect. It was a lavish room decorated with golden marble with tiny pillars, a huge victorian style bed in the middle between two wall-sized windows that had curtains drawn preventing any from seeing the outside. There were various assortments such as a full-length mirror in one corner of the room, a wardrobe containing nothing but Dean's outfits. Literally the only thing he was ever seen in, black pants, black shirts/tank tops and tons of leather jackets on the hangers.

"Do you have any fashion sense at all or do you just play it safe by keeping the same outfit?" Carmen asked, a hand running over the jackets.

Dean had taken a seat at the end of the bed, fingertips touching in deep thought. When she spoke, his gaze briefly flickered to her and then back to the front. "Imperial color is black."

"Personally, I think you'd look better in some color. This room needs some cheer to it," Carmen commented.

Dean grunted, but did not answer.

"What are we going to do now?" Carmen asked, taking a seat beside him.

"I don't know," said Dean. "Despite what you may think, I don't have all the answers written in a book somewhere."

"But you swore an Oath to him, didn't you?" Carmen tilted her head. "Doesn't that mean you're-"

"Bound to him for all eternity?" Dean finished. "Yes."

"You don't seem very pleased by it,"

"If you were bound to someone you didn't particularly like, then you wouldn't be very pleased either," said Dean sarcastically.

"Why don't you like him?" Carmen held up a hand when Dean gauged her with a cold look. "I mean aside from the obvious reasons...Didn't he raise you?"

"I love my Father," Dean replied seriously. "That doesn't mean I have to like him or his methods. I'll always love him. He's raised me for over two thousand years."

"How old are you?" Could she be more irritating? It took all his patience to _not_ snap her head off with his teeth.

Parenting sure brought out the best side of him.

"I'm twenty-five. By your years," said Dean in a bored tone.

"How many other years are there?"

"For every hundred years here, we age one," said Dean. "But a demon stops aging after a certain point and never looks different."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Because we're built that way," Dean snapped.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to get bitchy," said Carmen quietly.

"_For the moment_, please do be quiet. I'd really rather not talk right now," said Dean in clipped tones.

One minute had passed before there was a knock at the door and Dean's eyes narrowed upon it. "Enter."

The Imperial that entered was unlike any that Dean had seen before. And he had journeyed with the most eccentric Imperial of all: Merrick. This Imperial was not tall, but not short. He was older.

He must have been a business man in his human life. He had short black hair that was receding well past a designated hair line and brown eyes. The demon wore a long black trenchcoat with black undergarments like most Imperials.

"Good evening," He spoke with a heavy British accent that hadn't waned since joining Hell obviously. "It's a pleasure to see you, Your Highness. I was sent by your Father. I'm your New Guardian."

Dean smirked, but the sound came out dry. "And you are?"

"Fergus McLeod. But you can call me Crowley,"

"Crowley," Dean repeated. He leaned back on his elbows on the bed, surveying Crowley with a rather cold look. "You can go back and tell my Father that I have no need of a Guardian. My Guardian is dead."

"Which is precisely why I was assigned to become your new one," said Crowley crisply. "But you have gone through them. Lilith was your first Guardian, if I'm not correct? Then you dismissed her for this...Merrick."

This Merrick. Merrick was a legend even among the lower-class.

"They're dead," said Dean bluntly. "What makes you think you'll have better luck guarding me?"

"Let's just say...I'm a great deal older than your old Guardian. Not from Lilith, of course. Experience is a great proof, my Prince," said Crowley, smiling in a way that made Dean feel uncomfortable.

"Fine," Dean conceded, standing up. "Then, get on your knees."

"Pardon?" Crowley inquired as though he wasn't quite sure he heard him.

"I know it isn't standard, and I hardly know you. Nor your damn track record. Consider that the spoils of royalty that I have no idea who the hell you are. But I made Merrick swear his loyalty to me. Now, get on your knees and swear an oath to me," Dean commanded in a cold voice.

"If you insist," said Crowley uncertainly, lowering himself down to one knee and bowing his head with his hand over his chest.

"Repeat after me, 'I, Crowley, swear my allegiance onto the Prince. May I perish in my own blood if I disavow.' " Dean completely ignored that Carmen was watching with a rapt expression behind him.

"I, Crowley, swear my allegiance onto the Prince. May I perish in my own blood if I disavow," said Crowley stoically. And like with Lucifer. A flash of red passed between them. A chain link passed briefly in plain sight, binding their wrists together before disappearing altogether.

"You're dismissed," said Dean, sitting back down. "I'll call on you if I need anything else."

Crowley stood and bowed once. "As you wish, sire."

As soon as Crowley was clear of the room, Carmen turned to Dean. "Why did you make him swear to you like that? Isn't that what your Dad made you do? So, what now, you're all connecting by some kind of thread circle?"

"No," said Dean. "There's no such thing. The demon who swears the oath is the one that should be worried about breaking it. Not the one that's being sworn to. Lucifer has nothing to worry about if I break the oath, I do. Likewise Crowley, if he breaks his oath to me, he'll die and it won't effect me. Not unless the Link is strong enough to affect both sides."

"When does that happen?"

"When both sides are of equal attachment to eachother," said Dean.

"Like Sam and you?" Carmen asked. "I'm sorry. I knew you were close."

Dean didn't look offended. He just laid down and sighed. "Like Sam and me...Yeah. But I broke that Link before he could get hurt by swearing my own loyalty and life to another. He should be fine."

"So you mean if you hadn't...? If you had died...He would have..?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "I wasn't lying before. I don't really want to talk, Carmen. If you're feeling tired, maybe you should get some sleep."

Carmen scowled at him but obeyed. He didn't look at her, just felt as she lied down on one side of his bed and curled up. Within minutes, her exhaustion took over and she was asleep.

Dean envied her. Too much was on his mind to hit the pillow and fall asleep. His body felt broken and destroyed. He had long since healed from Lucifer's attack, but even so, the echo of the pain was still there. In his chest, in his head. All these thoughts were a plague. It was truly a curse what that angel had done to him all those years ago. To feel was a burden.

He wanted to be numb and just forget about it all. A clean start. It was a wild chance in the dark.

And Castiel...He'd never see him again, and if he did. ...Perhaps it would be on the battlefield where they'd be enemies once more.

But he could never forget their time together. The time with Merrick. With Sam. With Castiel. Even with Carmen. It was all he had left to hold onto. The past that he'd never have again. The family he could no longer see.

It was all to much to bear at the moment.

He didn't even realize he had fallen asleep.

Until he woke up. It smelled like something was burning. Acrid and strong. Dean pulled himself off the bed and was blinded by the light that came from curtains that were no longer drawn. The light outside was too bright to be real. He stood up, glancing at the sleeping form of Carmen before walking to the window.

Outside was a horror scene. Everything was on fire. The entirety of Hell. Hell was torture and flames, that Dean always knew of, but now he was seeing it in a raw status that he usually closed away from. He could see the black sky, the black chainlinks containing souls; human souls that were being torn and ravaged apart by their demon captors. No Imperial Class. These were the monstrous creatures that served the Imperials without question. Those without Will, those whose only mission was to destroy and consume.

They consumed the flesh as if it was Sunday dinner.

"Surprised to see your Kingdom in its true form?" The voice shocked Dean into whipping around but no one was in the room besides Carmen and himself. Still, there was no mistaking that voice...

And he found the source through the mirror. Gabriel. The angel that came down to Hell after Dean had slaughtered the lot of his kind.

"I'm not shocked you had your curtains drawn. You always were blind to the true nature of Hell, according to your Father," said Gabriel casually, crossing his arms and leaning against the side of his mirror.

"The Dream intrusion thing is getting really old," Dean commented irritably. "I can't even sleep without some _prick_ invading it."

"No, I imagine it isn't very pleasant to be faced with your own demons. Ironic as I find it that a demon _can_ have it's own demons," said Gabriel, amused.

"What do you want, Celestial?" said Dean tiredly, approaching the mirror so they were of level height. He couldn't do anything to dispel this except try to wake up, which he didn't know how to make himself do considering he must have fallen into a near coma to be seeing Gabriel in the first place.

"Despite what you may think, this is actually important," said Gabriel seriously. "I'm here because I have important information for you."

"Such as?"

"Your Father," stated Gabriel. " I have information regarding him, if you care to hear."

"Is this another attempt to curse me? I don't think it's going to work if I'm asleep," said Dean.

"No," said Gabriel, rolling his eyes. "I never _cursed_ you, Dean. You're the only one who worded it like that. I gave you a conscience and your heart back. If I hadn't, you'd be long since dead and this entire Hell realm would have been thrown into chaos without a worthy ruler. Your thirst for vengeance destroyed your humanity that night, so I opted to restore a part of it so if you chose to make a bad choice, your mind would actually have a say in the matter."_  
><em>

"You ruined my life, and now you're justifying it," Dean sighed. He was too exhausted to fight. What did it all matter now?

"I didn't ruin your life. I gave you control over it. You would have never come to the mortal realm in the first place if I didn't do what was necessary that night. It was your conscience, your heart, that made you wish to go there and try to save the universe by killing that boy," said Gabriel. He chuckled to himself. "I'm not saying it was the wisest move in the book, but then again..."

Whatever patience Dean had left was gone. "What do you want, Gabriel?"

"Like I said...I want to help you, Dean. There are still people who believe in you. Not just your demon child sleeping there, either. Your friends...Your angel," The word made Dean's lower lip tremble just slightly. "Castiel believes in you, Dean. He believes in you so faithfully, that he would walk through the pits of Hell to get you out of here so you could be reunited."

"Is there a point to this?"

"You and I both know that he'd die before he stepped foot in your castle, and not by your hand," Gabriel watched his expression closely. "Yes. You know, don't you? You've always known."

"Is that why you're here? To tell me that he's coming down for a visit?"

"Heavens no. I think I talked him down from that," said Gabriel. "I came here to tell you that when the time comes. You'll make the right decision because you'll know in your own heart, that it is the right thing to do. I once told you to never let him control you. Do you remember that?"

"I don't remember," Dean all but growled. "I don't _remember_ you. What part of that is not clear? All I remember from the last time we met was that damn...spell you put on me."

"I know," said Gabriel sadly. He looked at Dean for a long moment before reaching into his pocket and extracting something. To Dean's amazement, his hand came through the other side to Dean. He opened his palm to reveal a silver ring. "Here. I believe this is yours."

Dean took it, glancing at the inscription and looking back at Gabriel, demanding an explanation.

"I fixed it," Gabriel shrugged. "With names that hold more meaning to you. So you don't forget."

Castiel. Sam. Merrick. These were the names that were added to Merrick's ring in that same script. He felt a pang of irritation. But his hand closed over it tight, despite himself. What could he say or do? Gabriel was right. It was all he had of them.

"There was once a time when I taught you everything there was to know about the place you came from," Gabriel mused, still in that same solemn tone. "And you've forgotten it all, just like that. I suppose it's just as well. You experienced the mortal world yourself from the eyes of a demon. I suppose, it's a start. But now I have something else to teach you, something not so easily forgotten."

"Is it a vanishing spell, because feel free to use it and demonstrate," said Dean coldly.

"No," He took something else out of his pocket. A thin piece of paper that looked old and slightly brown with crinkles that no amount of smoothing would ever fix. Gabriel had done a poor job of rolling it up like a scroll. But he held that out too for Dean to take. "But close. It _is_ a spell. The moment you touch it. It'll be a spell you know. I've enchanted it that way."

"Is this a trick? Because the last time you gave me something, I kind of felt like I had an aneurysm in my head,"

"It's not a trick. It's a spell. Take it, Dean. When the time comes, you'll know what to do with it," said Gabriel, thrusting the scroll forward.

"What kind of spell is it?" Dean asked, hesitating.

"It's an Archangel spell to create a Dimensional Door to whatever location you want. It took me a long time to write it. And you're lucky enough that all you have to do is touch it to learn it. It's not that easy for angels," Gabriel told him. "After the spell is uttered, you need only to say the name of the place, and it will become a portal to that place."

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

"Lucifer,"

It took a moment for that to sink in before Dean could speak. He wasn't sure he had heard him right at all. "My Father?"

"Yes," said Gabriel. "Lucifer cannot be defeated by the sword, by the arrow or even by Michael. Sam was just _one _vessel. Another can be created and the cycle will continue. You cannot kill him here. The only way to rid of Lucifer permanently is to contain him...forever."

"So, you want me to chuck Lucifer through a Dimensional Door to who knows where,"

"I didn't say that. You know a Dimensional Door requires payment. You could say this one that you make will be unique. There are hundreds of spells for dimensional doors...but this one is different in that its price is not just a soul...not the blood of an innocent or the murder of sheep. This is much more complex...And I would not give it you if I had any other option, or if you had any other option," Gabriel's gaze could have pierced Dean through.

"What is the price of the dimensional door?"

"The soul of the caster,"

He should have been expecting that. It was completely unheard of, but the damn angel wouldn't beat around the bush so much if there wasn't a cost like that. Dean's expression didn't change when Gabriel said the words, instead he eyed the scroll in his hand as though it might spontaneously combust.

"The way I see it, you have a choice, Dean. You can either let your Father burn the world, or you can save it. Either way, it's up to you. Why put all our peas in Michael's pod when we can prevent a catastrophic amount of lives lost right now? It has to be you. It has to be the one he doesn't expect. The one he doesn't call his enemy."

Stupid angels trying to make sense of everything.

"And just where am I supposed to create the Door to?" There was not a plane of existence that could hold Lucifer for long. Not that he knew of.

"There's a place in Hell where the demons go when they're punished by the King," said Gabriel. "You know the place. You've banished hundreds of demons there yourself. You banished most of the Anema there, if you care to remember that little tidbit."

"The ninth circle," Dean whispered.

Gabriel nodded slowly. "There is some truth to the tale of _Dante's Inferno_, after all."

It was a long shot. No, it was just plain fucking crazy. There was no guarantee it would work and Dean had all but lost hope in defeating Lucifer the conventional way. There was no way to say he'd even have the opportunity to go through with this. Or even the tact to do so. Dean didn't exactly relish the prospect of killing Lucifer himself. He hadn't lied to Carmen when he told her he loved him. He did. Containing him, however was a different story. One, he didn't quite feel so awful about. It certainly didn't put a painful knot in his stomach.

But he had made up his mind. It was all he could do if someone was quite literally handing him something. No harm in that, right?

How tight Gabriel was holding the ring in his other hand seemed to cut into his palm. But he couldn't help the question that burst through his lips. "Why are you helping me?"

"I told you-"

" Because you think I'll do the right thing, I get it. But you're taking a long shot, Gabriel. You know' what I've done. You seem to know _a lot_ about me," said Dean. "I've killed hundreds of angels, hundreds of your kind. I killed Raphael. Even though he was a prick to everyone around him. But you can't tell me none of that matters."

"I count on you to-"

"Cut the crap," Dean snapped.

"Very well, Dean. I'll be straight with you," said Gabriel with a deep sigh. "I _don't_ believe in you.. I think even if you think differently, your father has you on a very _long_ leash."

"Then why are you even bothering?" Dean snarled. He looked like he was about to throw the ring right at Gabriel's face. "Why even bother giving me this information, this scroll. This..._stupid_ fucking ring?"

Gabriel watched his mini tantrum with a blank look on his face. "Even a sliver of hope is good for some."

_"Maybe I believe in something more than what you do. Maybe I have something you don't."_

_"Really...? And what's that?"_

_"Hope,"_

Castiel's words ringing in his head. He may not have liked Gabriel very much. But if he knew Dean as he claimed to, he knew how to get under his skin in the worst way. The fact that Castiel and Sam believed in him made him feel, if possible, worse. Hell, the fact that this asshole believed in him, even a little didn't help either.

Dean swallowed hard, extending his hand slowly, but not yet taking the scroll. His gaze flickered up to Gabriel. " Does Castiel or Sam know you're giving me this? Do they know you're helping me?"

"It wouldn't be fun if everyone in the party knew," said Gabriel, amusement touching his eyes.

"Hmm," Dean grunted, and then his hand closed over the scroll. He felt a searing heat burn on the edges head. Words he had never heard before, scrawling into the very fabric of his mind. He closed his eyes from the excruciating pain and shut out all the sights around him.

* * *

><p>Dean woke with a gasp, body acting on instinct when he sat up. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he realized someone was talking to him. Crowley was poking his head through the door. When he woke up, the ring was held tight in his palm until it left a mark on white skin. He slipped it on his finger, feeling the heat from how confined it had been.<p>

"Did you hear me, your highness?" Crowley asked, waking Dean fully out of his reverie. "I said the King would like a word with you in the throne room. He said to come alone and dress appropriately."

"I'll be right there," Dean's voice came out more husky than he would have liked. His throat felt like it had been ripped open. He massaged it vigorously until the ache began to die. Crowley had already gone. Gone to deliver the message.

Carmen was still sleeping. Deep sleep, too... He wagered it had been a few hours since his dream with Gabriel. God, that sounded so dirty in his mind. Not that he'd ever think of an angel in that matter...Or dream of them...Well, maybe just one.

"Dress appropriately," Dean muttered to himself. "Define appropriately..."

He had never changed out of the clothes he came down to Hell in. The simple black tanktop had dried blood stains on it, most of it his own from being stabbed, from having his best friends blood splash on him as he died. From being thrown around a wrecked car. From being beaten to a pulp by an enormous Anema. Take your pick on which one was the best.

There were filthy memories all over these garments. Even though he had plenty clones of each item, he'd make a mental note to burn them as he peeled them off himself. The tank top uncovered the scar on his stomach where the Anema had stabbed him, bigger and more recent looking from the stab by the demon in St. Mary's that had made him fall through the metal grate onto the altar. He was sure there was an equally grotesque mark on his lower back.

His skin didn't look much better than his clothes. It'd been too long since the last time he even considered a shower. Though being in this damn realm made it feel like weeks...months. Time was measured so differently than it was up there. Barely any time had passed in the mortal realm but for Dean, it felt like hours upon hours had passed since he last saw a face he actually wanted to see.

Taking a shower felt like a good idea right now. Lucifer could wait. In fact, he could wait another thirty minutes. He strode over to his bathroom and found it was another area of his that he did not miss. Lavish marble countertops with gold and silver edging. The mirror showed a gaunt face looking back. Empty. Cold. This was the face of a man who had given up on everything and had hardly anything to lose.

He washed away days of sweat and dried blood. The hot water didn't feel warm to someone like Dean who's temperature was always in the low hundreds. Steam rolled out of the bathroom in waves. Once he was done, he found himself staring at his reflection again. He hardly recognized who he saw. His appearance had always been appealing to most. He could charm whatever walked and talked. Now, he felt like he was the exact opposite. He wasn't a King. He wasn't a Prince. He was nothing.

A pet, like Gabriel had implied. Lucifer had him on a long leash.

Not even that long. He probably couldn't even leave this place without getting dragged back by the hair. It wasn't exaggeration. Lucifer had him right where he wanted him. It wasn't flattering. Lucifer would hunt him down and bring him back no matter what the cost.

He pulled on his clothes one by one. Like Carmen had said, wasn't many choices in that department. The black attire felt almost foreign to him. Every demon that was Knight or Imperial class wore similar clothes. Yet when Dean had donned this clothing in the past, he felt like a king. Like the ground he walked on was worshiped. It wasn't because he held the title. It was because with his subjects, he had _earned_ that title and wore it proudly.

The only thing the tank top and jeans felt like were clean and cold because they hadn't been touched. He pulled a fresh leather jacket off the hangar and ignored the metal sheath that was tied to the inside cloth. He was never getting that sword again and this was just a painful reminder of that.

Dean debated waking Carmen up and dragging her along...but after everything he had already put her through. Why the hell make her live through whatever Lucifer wanted? Let her sleep and dream of nothing else but her own thoughts making sense of what all she had learned. If she was lucky, she'd wake up hating him with all her human memories in tact, ready to kill him.

He could be so fortunate. He had yet to experience or remember his human life. If he ever even had one.

Lucifer was waiting for him and he didn't feel up for leaving him waiting long and facing the wrath of an impatient angel. Like always, every demon Dean passed bowed their head in respect as he passed. Even the lower-class who weren't fit to lick his shoes seemed to show some signs of cognitive function when they grunted and nodded as he passed. They were treated like slaves. Chained to the Imperial Guards that Dean passed by a long metal chain leash. It would have been sadistic, if they truly did know better. But they didn't. Low-class demons were the true monsters that people had nightmares about.

Lucifer stood at the head of the throne. Still wearing that armor. Still wearing that crown. Still wielding that sword. It looked wrong on him. But of course Dean would think that considering these items were once his. He didn't give a damn about the black armor made of Will and hellfire. Not even the crown. But the sword had been in possession for too long. It was the true power. A weapon spoke a thousand words to anyone trying to stand against you.

"There's my boy," So much love and pride saturated Lucifer's tone, that Dean was amazed he didn't stagger from it. He briefly wondered if this was a dream and fallen angels were the embodiment of all that was good.

How silly his thoughts were. He must have been tired.

He didn't even greet him, just glowered as he stepped up to his level. Dean nearly scowled when Lucifer drew close, captured his face between his hands planted a kiss on his forehead.

"What did you summon me here for?"

"To show you something," said Lucifer simply, and he turned his back on Dean. "Follow me."

It would be so easy, right then. With his back exposed, that sword on his back. He could just rip it off. He was fast enough. Dean was confident in his abilities enough for that.

He could kill him, right there.

But he didn't. With a hardened expression, Dean followed him. Lucifer walked a length around the throne until he was just behind it. He held up his hand and the silver seat gleamed pure white before the elevated floor began to move, revealing an underground staircase. All his time on the throne, he had never known of this. He was about to open his mouth to question how long ago that was built, but he bit his curiosity in the head this time. He didn't want to know. Lucifer had kept enough secrets from him to last a lifetime.

Instead, he just kept his mouth shut and stayed at Lucifer's back as the angel walked down the spiraling stairs. Once he reached the bottom floor, Dean was painfully reminded of the altar where Lucifer was reborn. He didn't know why, it didn't look anything like it, but maybe it was that eerie light. All there was a large, jagged black rock formation that had a faint shine to its content leading into the ceiling as though it was holding the structure of the castle. It probably was. The light came from the chunk of rock itself, like it had tiny crystals inside of it.

It would have been beautiful to human eyes. But Dean didn't know why, it made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Do you know what this is?" Lucifer asked. Dean said nothing in response so Lucifer continued. "This is Noctis*. In human terms, that means Midnight. It cannot be created or utilized anywhere but in Hell. Do you know why?"

Dean shook his head. "Because it's looks the part...With a name like that, I fucking figure it can only be made in the darkest realm."

Lucifer smiled at his attempt of humor. "Recite your lessons regarding the different forms of Will, Dean."

Why bother? What did this matter about Will magic at all? "There are three forms of Will, you told me. The lowest being elementals that we can draw from nature. Fire. Earth. Water. Solidified water, also known as ice. Wind. You told me we can use them at any given time by summoning through our surroundings. It's magic in it's basic form."

"Yes. Go on," Lucifer prompted.

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. Was it just him or was the sickness he felt in his stomach becoming very real? Before he could have passed it off as just being in Lucifer's presence, going through this tedious process. It was subtle almost, creeping up slowly.

Dean coughed, felt something lock in his throat when he did. But he continued on as requested. "From elementals, there are the Forbidden Powers. Dark and Light. Angels utilize the Light power. We call it the Immortal Flame because it never extinguishes. At least for them...For us, it always extinguishes."

"And there's one more that I've told you very little about, correct?"

Dean nodded. "The Dark Element."

"Yes, indeed, the Dark Element. The Dark Element is a source of power found only in this realm. Like this rock here," Lucifer tapped it with a finger. Steam came from his skin. It was that hot. "This rock is created through the Dark Element. It can only be created by the King of Hell...and it can only be destroyed by a blade infused with that same power."

"It can only be destroyed by itself. Isn't that convenient," said Dean, feigning interest. He felt sick to his stomach now. "Why...Why do I feel like I'm about to throw up. Is there a smell in here?"

Lucifer smiled faintly. "You feel this way because you are so close to a heavy formation with the Dark Element. This rock draws upon Will Power, Dean. It's the same power that the Anema used upon you before. Incidentally, it's also the same power that I used through Sam to save your life from Raphael."

"Oh, is that what we're calling that?" Dean asked. But his statement made him wonder how many times it was Lucifer and how many times it was Sam, or maybe it was both at all times.

He saw too much, either way.

Lucifer didn't deign to respond that. He probably thought he _was_ saving Dean's life in that manor._  
><em>

"Why are you telling me all this? Why the lesson review?" Dean asked wearily. "Why are you letting me close if it's dangerous for me?"

"It's not dangerous for you," said Lucifer in a chiding tone. "And have you not been listening to a word I've been saying, Dean? I told you it can only be created by me. For me, it requires so little power to create more. Can you imagine what could happen if I did?...Would you be surprised if I told you that the Dark Element seems to have a mind of it's own? Or I should say, rather, a _heart_."

Dean didn't have to wonder what he meant by that for long. He waved his hand aside towards the hunk of rock seemed to shift like he said...with a mind of its own. And Dean saw for the first time, the most disgusting sight he had ever laid eyes on. It was a large, bright red circle amidst the rock...but as Dean looked closer...it looked more like... an eye. With a red pupil and black blood vessels where normal red ones would be in the white. Frozen of course, it didn't blink. But as Dean stared, it seemed to glare at him with promise.

"Doesn't look like a heart to me," said Dean, pretending that the...eyeball...wasn't creeping him out.

"It's a core, Dean," said Lucifer, shaking his head. "With enough power, this core can take us to the top."

"Take us to the...," Dean began to repeat. "To what top? You don't mean...the surface?"

Lucifer didn't reply and Dean took that as a silent answer.

Color drained from his face. "You mean to take this rock to the mortal realm?"

"Don't be silly, Dean. This Noctis is nearly indestructible...why would I take it to the mortal realm? No...I intend to grow it to the Mortal realm...Come now, don't be naive. Just imagine what this Noctis could do to the planet itself. Imagine it was wiped out completely to create a new realm of our own?"

Dean was having trouble processing this, his breath came out in a hitch. "What, create a world like the one we already have?"

"Imagine harnessing the entire world inside the simple fabric of your being, Dean. Try to understand," said Lucifer, his eyes alight with an eerie gleam that closely resembled madness.

Understand that he was going insane. Dean scoffed." Father, what's the point?"

Lucifer came close and gripped Dean's shoulder. Soon Dean found he was counting on that hold more than he would hope to. It was all he could use to keep standing upright. "For you, Dean. Everything I do. Everything I've ever done is for you. Now I want to give you a new home...Is that so wrong if all I want is to make you happy?"

Lucifer was hiding the truth behind noble words. How was this possibly supposed to make him happy? When did he ever want a broken world surrounded by rock and decay? That certainly never made the Christmas list.

"No," said Dean, despite the fact that he literally wanted to bite his words.

Lucifer pulled him into a bonecrushing hug. Dean felt his ribs tighten painfully and all the breath leave him.

Over his shoulder, Lucifer whispered. "That is the greatest gift I can give you. A perfect world. A perfect world for Father and Son to be side by side in a new land...forever."

* * *

><p><strong>Noctis- <strong>Noctis. The strongest Dark Element, only created in Hell. This is the same material that surrounds Lucifer's castle. It can only be created by the King and destroyed by metal forged in Heaven. Dark Element Noctis drains the will and life of all who come in close proximity. Only those who are strong in both will not die within first contact of it.


	29. XXIX -- Finale Part I

The first tremor was barely felt.

By the humans, the sudden shake of the ground made them as individuals merely turn to eachother in puzzlement. Nothing seemed to follow it so they went on their merry way, acting as though nothing happened.

But then it happened again.

The very ground began to splinter, the buildings began to quake so violently, that pieces began to crack off the buildings. The people below were alarmed now, grabbing onto whatever was close by for support. Their vehicles, their walls inside their homes, eachother. It didn't matter. Because it was impossible. This was Manhattan. There were fault lines in different parts of the city, but how could it be that an Earthquake was happening now? They had the technology to detect this sort of thing before it happened.

Because it wasn't an earthquake.

The streets were abuzz with activity. Murmurs and shouts of asking what was going on. Why did every piece of technology go down? A blackout maybe?

The answer to the question didn't take long to be answered. Within minutes after the second quake, the earth erupted with a massive volcanic like rock that impaled through the Chrysler Building, killing hundreds of people on each floor. Too late they ran before the black rock began to spread, seeming to absolve them into the rock itself. The screams were deafening before being silenced completely.

The people below began to run from the sight of it: a huge mountain with a tiny eye-like opening at the tip where indistinguishably, two figures stood.

"Look at them run," said Lucifer with a manic smile, watching the scattering humans from the top. "Every nightmare they've ever faced is about to come to light. Every doubt they had in God and Angels is about to be destroyed. Let them witness true power in the face of Hell."

Dean didn't say a thing. The entire sky seemed to blacken with Lucifer's power even though it had only been morning to these lives below just moments before.

Lucifer frowned, his back still to Dean. He stuck his sword into the rock and stepped forward towards the rock's opening. "It's not enough...Where's the heroic crusade? Is this not what they were waiting for? Hahaha...Look, son. The cowardice of Heaven."

He didn't have to look to know that he was right. Not a single Celestial had come...yet.

"We just have to get their attention, don't we? Run while you can, little monkeys...No one eludes _me_ for long," Lucifer raised his hands level to the ground. It gave a violent tremor before twin blades of Noctis rock erupted from within directly underneath his palms. He didn't even hesitate for a moment, taking a hold of both of them. A burst of power surged through Lucifer in the form of black fire and surrounded himself and the entire rock formation.

Dean covered his eyes when that power came to close and stepped back. There was too limited space to walk and he found himself close to the edge when he dropped his arm. But it was not Lucifer he looked upon. It was the horror that he had manifested. It was that terrble power he was using and what for. The entire city was on fire in the next second. He could hear them screaming as Lucifer absolved their souls into the Noctis, drawing upon their energy and life into himself. Beams of gold and white began to slowly find their way towards the King's heart.

It all seemed to happen so slow, when the bodies slowly rose off the ground, lifeless, drained. There was no chance of escape. Not now when another volley of power unleashed from the mountain itself and created an enormous sphere barrier around the entire city, trapping the souls that Lucifer was harvesting within.

And then they dropped from the sky like rainfall. It was a sickening sight. Men, women, children. It didn't matter to the king. These trivial things never did. The innocence of life, the rules he had fought to live by were thrown out the window. They never mattered to him. He was as evil as they had said.

Lucifer was the nucleus of the blast, drawing the power into himself. Black holes began to form in the concrete below, hundreds of shadows, of demons began to rise from the depths of hell. Lucifer's army.

And all Dean could think of in that moment was his own demon child. Among them? No, he would sense her. But it was her safety that was a concern. And it was this that made Dean stagger back a few steps in hesitance. He had to get to Carmen. He had to get her away from all this. Call it the parental instinct. Call it what you want.

He turned his back on Lucifer. Turned his back on all of it and took the plummet to the ground where he felt a shock of pain run up his legs. A minor irritation compared to what might have happened if he had been human. He rushed through the swarm of demons who completely ignored him in their shadow forms, not yet embodying physical forms inside the dead humans that Lucifer had laid out for them. He wouldn't be missed. At least not for now. Not while Lucifer continued to drain the very life essence out of Manhattan.

But it was through one of the black holes that Dean jumped through. It closed up as soon as he has come through the other side. Hell was an empty realm when he entered, and the castle was far from him. It wasn't a pretty sight where he had landed, right in the middle of the chainlinks that connected one soul to the next. Blood, bone and organ littered the mud where Dean found himself knee deep in it all. Gabriel was right. He wasn't ready to look upon his kingdom and see it for what it really was. He had never been a saint. He had killed many. But behind the walls of the castle, he was saved the vision of burning stakes and torturous cries.

He was a lost teenager again, with a giant hole in his past that he could not touch or comprehend.

Dean shook his head. This wasn't the time. There was no time.

How could he miss the castle from here? The castle had a huge mountain going through it all the way up to the sky where Lucifer was heading the damn thing. As he watched, the rock seemed to expand in size, twinkling bright from the crystals inside. Mesmerizing. Deceiving to the human eye as it was meant to be.

Mustering up all his strength, Dean jumped. As soon as he was clear of the torture zone, he stepped lightly onto the steps leading up to the castle, praying internally that Carmen was still inside. No Imperial was here. They were upstairs with the rest of them. This castle was completely open to attack. But who would attack when the leader was right where he needed to be for a counter attack?

* * *

><p>Faster than the speed of light, beams of golden radiance shot out of the black sky surrounding the ruined city where black demons were pouring out of the ground inside a semi-transparent barrier. It was still just an island. And each angel that had appeared was just barely a foot away from Lucifer's magic barrier, hovering above disturbed waters, yet untainted by hellspawn.<p>

At the head, stood a being of immense power, clad head to toe in golden armor. An angel taller than the rest of them. He wore a helmet with metal wings engraved on each side, covering most of his facial features except a sharp nose and a stern mouth beset by pale white skin.

Balthazar, uncovered and dressed in his silver plated armor rushed to his side while the rest of the angels gathered. Hundreds in number, all forming a line behind the General.

The General's voice was deep, laced with centuries of command and authority as he raised two fingers to his temple beneath the metal. "Set up a perimeter around this barrier. Focus all your power into a single attack to bring it down."

"Is this wise, General? What if there are still people still within the city?" Balthazar asked.

"There are no life forms," said the General slowly as the legion rushed to obey the direct command. Only Balthazar remained by his side as he stepped away. They were merely one island away from the city where the barrier would stave off a direct assault, where Hell was literally contained on Earth. "Not any we need be concerned with."

"General, if we wipe out the barrier, there's no telling what could be unleashed once it's down!" Balthazar shouted over the sudden cries of his men utilizing Will against the sphere.

"Commander. I suggest you rally your men,"

"But General-"

_"It's no good!_" Another commander shouted over the link between them.

Another cry followed suit."_ We're barely making a scratch on this barrier!"_

_"General, the barrier! It's too strong!"_

The General crossed his arms and deliberated for a short second. It was not like the evidence wasn't before him plain as day. The barrier that Lucifer had set was too strong and he should have sensed that...but it was worth a shot. He wouldn't have erected such a barrier if he didn't have the utmost confidence that it was going to work. "Then I have no choice."

He stepped ahead of Balthazar, drawing a golden sword from it's sheath. "I have no choice but to use Holy Bolt."

"General, you cannot be serious," said Balthazar, scandalized. "You'll destroy the entire city! You'll wipe it from the map!"

"That's a risk I must take. The surrounding cities will be affected once the humans come to investigate through their means...We do not have long before they arrive and witness this atrocity... This barrier is created from Noctis. It cannot be taken down unless the core is destroyed. If I know my brother, the core of the Dark Element is not within the city itself...We have to destroy it. We have to destroy it all," The General placed his fingers back on his temple. "Cease fire on the barrier, soldiers. Fall back in line. Prepare to retake the city."

"General!" Balthazar shouted, but The General had already extended two enormous white wings and taken flight. From below, he looked like a shooting star in the sky.

Stopping just atop the center of Lucifer's enormous sphere, The General raised his hand towards the heavens. "Father, give me strength."

The General's armored body took on a bright yellow glow, an impenetrable aura that immortalized his form. The skies seemed to open above him to reveal the bright light of God himself shining down upon his lone soldier. Light waves of electricity surrounded him and what looked like a bright orb of light energy hovered just above his outstretched palm.

_"WAIT!"_

The single word caught the General off guard. He nearly staggered from throwing the blast down and stopping last second. It was a voice he had not heard in some time, and certainly not one he expected to hear now.

"Castiel?" The General spoke out loud, connecting with Castiel, he received a brief flash of his location standing close to a place where many angels had tired themselves out trying to disrupt the shield near a long bridge uncovered by the barrier.

"_General, you have to wait! Do not release the Holy Bolt! There is still something we can do!"_

"Where have you been?" All hostility returned to his voice that he shook off. "Never mind. Fall back to the line. I'm about to take the city back."

_"General, there is someone within the city that is on our side. He's going to take down the barrier for us. You have to trust me. He's still there. If you release the Holy Bolt, you will wipe out everything within. Even the souls we may have yet to save!"_

_"_There is no one, Castiel," said the General. "This city is in ruins. Only the demons run amok. If I do not destroy it, they will destroy the surrounding cities and take this planet...within a matter of hours. Lucifer has taken every life within. We have them where they are contained...this is our only chance," Some remorse entered his voice. "I'm sorry, Castiel...But I have to do this."

_"Always talking about what you have to do. Was this another order you conjured out of nowhere or are you actually thinking for yourself this time?"_

This voice was not Castiel's...But it was enough to run a shocking tremor up the General's body. Now this was a voice he had definitely not heard in ages. He spoke in a low whisper. "...Gabriel?"

Unlike with Castiel, he caught no glimpse of Gabriel's location. Of course not. He had been unable to find Gabriel for years; why would it be easy now?

"_Listen to what he's saying, Michael. If you're not going to listen to him, listen to me. Even if you bolt up the city, you won't destroy that rock. Lucifer's drained the city of all it's Will. And I wager in a heavily populated city like this, that's quite a lot. He'll still be alive. Don't you see this is what he wants you to do? He wants to draw you out."_

Michael's jaw locked beneath the helmet but he curled his fingers into a fist and held fast onto that power above his head. "These demons must be destroyed, brother."

_"Where's your compassion, Michael? Dad raised you better than that. There are still people alive down there. You remember what he taught us...Remember that? He told us to love them above everyone else... Isn't even one life worth that? You want to destroy it?"_

Slowly, the clouds began to reform above Michael and the light began to fade. The power itself did not go into Michael like it might have for a demon. Instead it returned to it's source in the clouds above. The angels below him stood vigil, tiny pieces of light surrounding the darkness. "What are you asking of me, then? While we wait, he gathers strength. While we wait, he continues to kill and sire every human within the city for his army."

_"I'm asking you for time. Just believe, will you? For once. Believe in me. You can trust Castiel is telling the truth. There is someone yet still on our side in there."_

_"_And just _who_ am I supposed to put this blind faith in?"

* * *

><p>He didn't have to search long to find Carmen. As soon as Dean was clear of the castle gates, a strong set of arms squeezed his waist and cut off his breathing very briefly.<p>

"Where were you?" Carmen cried. "Never mind. What's happening? All I remember is the ground shaking and waking up and you weren't there! Everyone starting shouting something about the 'Calling' when I got out and they were all running away!"

"They're up there. They've created temporary doors...black holes leading into the mortal plane," said Dean, disentangling himself from her iron grip and taking her face. "But you have no need to worry about that, do you understand me? We don't have a lot of time...and you need to get out of here as fast as possible."

" But Dean-" She began.

"Don't question me," said Dean sharply. "You have to get yourself to safety. Take the caves back to the dimensional door we came through. Do you remember where I'm talking about?"

Carmen just seemed to tremble and Dean gave her a hard shake by the shoulders. "Carmen! Focus. Do you remember the way we came in?"

"I...I remember," said Carmen, nodding and speaking in a shaking voice. "I remember."

"Good," said Dean, brushing a stray lock of hair from the side of her face. "Take the way back. You can still save yourself."

"No," She began to shake her head in his grip. Adamantly with tears streaming down her cheeks. "No. I won't leave you here. I can take you with me."

"I can't go with you," Gently, Dean pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Why?" She cried.

"You are my legacy. My only legacy. If I can ensure one life makes it out alive. It's you, Carmen...Now, get out of here," said Dean, turning away from her. "That's an order."

He didn't wait for her to obey. Just faced what he had postponed for long enough. The towering Noctis rock had went through the entire castle like it had been impaled. Swirling energy. The closer Dean came, the more his own Will began to falter. It targeted him instantly, surrounding him with a dark red light similar to the power that Lucifer had used to weaken him and take his crown before.

Walking became a struggle. He could feel the burning sensation begin low in his belly and start to creep up towards his chest, attacking his lungs, cutting off his air. It was too much for anyone to bear. But he had to keep going. He had to destroy it. There was no other choice.

It seemed like an eternity passed when Dean finally made it to the heart of the throne room. Where it all began...and where it would end. He had no doubt Lucifer would come for him when he realized what Dean had done. He had no doubt that Lucifer would see this through. One way or another.

Hands made a grab for the rock, leaning against it. Touching it was like touching fire. His palms began to steam and burn. What was he thinking? How could he possibly destroy this rock?

"Your Highness," The voice made him jump, but Dean snapped his head in Crowley's direction, looming behind Lucifer's seat of power.

"Crowley," Dean said in a slightly cracked voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Doing what I was ordered to do," said Crowley. "Your father's orders take priority over your own, I'm afraid. He told me to stand here and remain wary of any approaching...Imagine how I felt when I find you to be the intruder...My, Dean...You've certainly topped Lucifer's list of treacherous scum in the span of a few minutes...Very...shocking, I must say."

But he didn't sound surprised. He sounded amused. And Dean didn't give a damn.

"Give me your sword," Dean held out his hand. "As your Prince, I command you to relinquish your weapon."

"No need to issue out the command, Your Highness," said Crowley coolly, pulling out a long silver blade from his belt beneath the trenchcoat. He didn't wear it on his back like a proud Imperial. Like Dean did, like Merrick once did. He wore it like the angels did by his waist. Crowley handed the sword to Dean without hesitance.

Gripping it firmly, Dean took it in both hands and stepped closer to the rock, both hands prepped for the swing.

"That won't do you any good, just saying. Nothing can cut through the Dark Element but the Sword of the King," said Crowley when Dean's blade was inches away from hitting its mark.

"I don't care," Dean growled, preparing to strike again.

Crowley placed his hands behind his back and began to circle Dean until he reached his other side."Do you know what it takes to become a King, Dean? Do you know what it took your Father to secure his position in a realm such as this? All that anger and vengeance...What does it come down to?"

"Power," said Dean through his teeth, annoyed as his eyes followed Crowley's every movement. " I get it. He's stronger than me. He always has been. There's nothing I can do to change that."

"You're wrong," Crowley said the words so low that Dean almost didn't catch it over the sudden sound of a power ripple through the Noctis all the way to the top. "It's not about power. It's never been about power. Lucifer secured that crown for one reason. Before you were born, before you even entered his mind. Because there is only one thing that unites this realm under such a ruler."

Dean breathed hard through his nose and lowered his weapon. "And what is that?"

"The realization of one's loneliness can be a barren path, my Prince...Your Father always knew he was alone. Betrayed and beaten beneath the heels of those who claimed to love him. Cast out of his home. Friendless. Alone...Betrayed. Broken," said Crowley. "And then he had you...And even you...his beloved son, does not love him as much as he loves you. His own son hates him to the point of creating this." The demon held a long finger to his face. "But I'm not judging you, Dean. I just want you to understand."

"What? The answer to your stupid recount of tales? There is no answer. If you're here to berate my choices, you can go back up to the surface and inform your King of what I'm doing. I will not be swayed otherwise,"

"You had the crown in the palm of your hand," To emphasize, Crowley curled his hand into a fist and brought it close to Dean's ear. "It was always meant to be yours after Lucifer because you shared something you still cannot comprehend. But deep down you knew. You held that power once, you can do it again...You took it the moment they killed Lucifer before your eyes...Think back. What was it that called your power that day? What was it truly that made the sword choose you?"

It was like talking to a talking wall. It didn't really matter what it said if it could talk because no one really cared anyway. But as Dean stared at him...everything seemed to piece together in his mind, despite himself.

The reality of his words slowly began to sink in. Dean felt the inner corners of his eyes sting and he struggled to restrain the emotion in his voice. "Despair."

"It was your despair that called the sword to you. It was despair even when the Celestial purified your heart that kept you our King...Because deep down, you knew...You always knew,"

A single tear coursed down Dean's cheek. "How do you know all this?"

"Because_ despair_ is what this throne is built upon. Despair is what rings through this realm. The sorrow of a broken child whose melodies haunt the fabric of its walls. And now...You come to this realm in hopes of undoing your Father's work here...But who's fault is it truly, your highness? Who's to blame for these countless lives that have been given to the Will of Lucifer?" Crowley gestured all around them, then his dark eyes were softened upon Dean once more. " You entered this realm, a careless king with thoughts to save this place from destruction by killing a child born to hold Lucifer's power. It was you who entered his life. Where would Sam be if you never found him? Where would Sam be if you never swore your life to him? Just a boy...oblivious to the world that you introduced him to. Oblivious to the pain that you have caused. Never reaching that altar where his body gave way to...this."

"Now tell me...Say it...Who is to blame for the death of the mortal plane?"

It felt like Dean's heart had cracked in two. Human emotion was such a bane...but it overwhelmed. It consumed. "I am."

He was right. Sam would have never been apart of this...never made it to the altar. Never suffered because of Dean. And now countless lives hung on Dean's conscience like a weight he couldn't lift. His body began to tremble and he wanted to break down. Only once before had he felt such pain and that was when Lucifer had died. His whole entire world had shattered right there and then. Everything he knew. Everything he had become to that point meant nothing without his Father.

Dean didn't even feel it at first. A weight in his heart became the weight around his head. He didn't feel it immediately when there was a sudden click in his back where there had once been an empty sheath.

But he saw it, reflected a thousand times back at him through the crystal fixtures inside the Noctis. A crown made of bone and teeth. The black hilt strapped to his back.

Crowley backed away from Dean, a slight smile on his lips as he melted into the shadows like he had never been.

Dean dropped Crowley's useless blade with a loud clatter and reached behind him in amazement. The sword felt light in his grip when he pulled it out and held it before him. Shining silver and red. It had chosen him once more. He gazed at it for a long moment as though mesmerized. So this was what it took...So this was what this blade had wanted from him all along...The truth..the dawning. It was never about power. It was never about the stronger...It was what this realm was built on.

One look at the Noctis...His reflection staring back at him, brought Dean back to reality.

It wasn't too late yet.

It could still be undone.

"Fuck your plan," Dean growled. "Fuck your forever. Fuck staying with you for eternity...but most of all, Lucifer. _Fuck you._

The Noctis seemed to have a will and mind of it's own. The rock spread away internally, and the power dispersing from it began to die away. He had control of it. Power tingled at the edges of his fingers. The Dark Element was part of him now. He found himself looking at the core; the mysterious shape in the darkness that so resembled an eye in the storm. He took the blade with both hands tight and plunged it as deep as it could go into the foundation. He didn't have to look to see that all the Will that it had collected was being released in an explosion that went all the way to the peak.


	30. XXX -- Finale Part II

"No...," The realization hit Lucifer almost instantly. His crown vanished from around his forehead...The armor broke off him in pieces before turning to dust at his feet and the sword strapped to his back left him. All this while he still gripped the the pedestals of Noctis rock. And even that began to wane. The Will surrounding it began to wither and die. All around him, the barrier he had created through it shimmered once before shattering altogether.

At the same time, the Noctis dispersed, leaving only glowing particles of the crystal floating into nothing. Lucifer's fall to ground zero took an age. All while his thoughts jumbled to gather the cause of it all into a single word in his mind.

Dean.

He didn't hit the ground lightly. It caved under the impact and he was covered in rubble, blotting out his view of his surroundings altogether, submerging it all in darkness.

What felt like hours later he began to regain feeling and he began to remove the debris of rock that he was trapped under piece by piece. There was an odd sort of ringing noise in his ears when he surfaced, blocking him from hearing true sound. Like a bomb had went off.

He swayed this way and that when he got to his feet, disorientated. His vision seemed to slide sideways as well. It was blurry...but he could make out figures moving rapidly in the darkness. Light and dark clashing horribly. Lucifer squinted. Demons. Angels...

They had breached through the barrier the moment it went down and engaged the low class demons and Imperials that Lucifer had raised from the depths. Hearing soon returned to Lucifer and he could hear the clang and punch of battle everywhere around him. From what he could see through milky shadows...the demons were being destroyed.

"It must be a terrible thing to not get what you want, for the first time in your existence,"

Lucifer didn't have to look to know who that was. A pain began to blossom in his side and he covered it with one hand, hinging on that side reluctantly.

"Michael,"

Michael leaned casually next to a particularly tall pile of rubble that had once been a building before Lucifer ran it through from Hell. He opened both hands when Lucifer acknowledged him then brought them back together. Michael had removed his helmet. He looked as he always had been. His skin was a slightly tainted shade of white and scarred from his many battle exploits. His hair was short and black, parted on one side and he had bright green eyes. Michael always looked this way, even though centuries had kept them apart. Tall. Proud. Severe. The big brother in every sense of the word.

Even now, he looked upon Lucifer with utmost seriousness. And with a touch of disappointment that Lucifer hated to see. His brother's lack of pride in him, to this day could still salt the old wounds.

"Well, well well...The prodigal son returns...As if my day could get any better, big brother shows up to the rescue...But you caught me at an inconvenient time... If you'll excuse me, I have to play babysitter. I'll be with you momentarily,"

"Your demons fight to defend their lives, Lucifer. But they don't fight for you. Not any longer. This is something you should have seen coming from miles away," said Michael conversationally.

"Like I said, Michael-"

"I heard what you said," Michael interrupted, stepping away from the rubble and taking a step closer to Lucifer so they were barely four feet away; Michael facing Lucifer's side. "I'm not deaf. Though you may as well be, all things considered. Blind, deaf and dumb."

"Always with the words to fuel your fight, brother," Lucifer snapped, almost limping as he turned towards him and drank in the sight of his brother for the first time. So radiant. So bright. Yet eyes that reminded him too much of where he needed to be at the moment."You...look the same, I see."

Michael frowned at him, and approached. Lucifer took a step back, but Michael's frown deepened and his eyes were averted on Luicfer's hand over the wound where a jagged piece of metal had embedded itself through Lucifer's tattered white suit into his ribcage. "Let me see."

"What?"

"Let me see," said Michael more firmly, pulling at Lucifer's wrist so he stopped covering it.

Slowly, Lucifer pulled his hand away, watching as Michael ran a hand over the wound and closed it with an icy cold tingle through Will. "Is this your new tactic, Michael? Heal me so killing me feels better?"

"I may not particularly like your mistakes, little brother. But seeing you in pain is not something I enjoy. Despite what you may think," said Michael, pulling away and crossing his arms.

"Oh, is that why you were about to throw a Holy Bolt at this city and destroy us all?" Lucifer smiled without humor.

Michael's brow furrowed and he closed the distance between them in one step, taking a hold of Lucifer's head with a firm grip of fingers buried in the locks of his hair. "I would rather destroy a city, miles in the sky...So I would not have to look upon your face when I kill you."

Despite a harsh struggle, Lucifer's lower lip trembled. "When?"

"When," Michael repeated. Both hands tangled in Lucifer's hair. "Lucifer...You break my heart."

Lucifer took hold of both his wrists, pried him off. But even then, his grip on Michael was tight, unyielding and unwilling to let go. " I have no time for sentiment. You owe me your life, Michael. I intend to collect on that."

"Lucifer, you're my brother and I love you. But we have to put the past behind us. It matters not for this moment,"

The words weighed heavy on Lucifer's conscience. They hurt, despite what he meant by it. Love...Love. Such a travesty.

"The past is what molds our future, Michael...and it is unfortunate, brother," Lucifer began, releasing Michael's hands. "I've learned the hard way..."

There was the unmistakable sound of flesh tearing beneath a metallic crunch. Lucifer fingers closed around the beating organ, digging his nails into the soft tissues where blood filled his palm. _"Love is weakness_."

On instinct, Michael's hands grabbed Lucifer's elbows. Too late. Too slow to stop it. His blue eyes widened and locked with Lucifer's in shock and pain. Lucifer wrenched out his heart, held it between them, and crushed it within seconds. Blood splashed his face and Michael fell backwards, but not before uttering his final word.

"Lucifer...,"

The menace died from Lucifer's face when he saw Michael hit the ground eagle spread, burning wings etched beneath his back in the semi-smooth pavement. Anguish burned on his features, a knot forming in the deepest pit of his stomach. This is what he wanted, wasn't it?

"Forgive me, Michael," Lucifer whispered. He closed his eyes on the sight of him, unable to look.

His gaze averted to the fighting...that had ceased. The angels stood over the bodies of countless demons, eyes on Lucifer, eyes on their fallen leader. One look at Lucifer's attention upon them wrote the fear. A brave angel shouted something that sounded very much like a retreat order. A cruel smile curled Lucifer's lips.

"No," said Lucifer, extending his bloody palm. "_None of you leave this place alive_."

They ran. They took flight. But Lucifer was true to his word. Even without his sword, he was still the strongest angel. Even through losing his crown, he had absolved more souls than all of Hell combined. The effects were more apparent through his display of power. Skin began to crack along the side of his face, red rashes touched his cheeks, breaking through flesh like a disease.

The light that filled the entire city was by no means benevolent. It was burning and strong. Incinerating. If the city had been on fire before, it was nothing compared to now. It looked like Hell on Earth. And maybe it was. The angels who had tried to run were destroyed by Lucifer's blast of power. The same power that had destroyed the angels who breached Hell when Lucifer died the first time in his throne room. The same power that Dean used. It didn't matter that the runt had the crown. He still had a hundred times his power.

Only Michael's body remained untouched by the fire. Only a scant few managed to take flight into the black sky. And Lucifer paid them no mind. They were insignificant to him. Michael's body he would keep right where it had fallen. No angel would dare come near enough to take it from him.

It was the demons that caught his attention now. The few that had survived were standing still, eyes focused solely on him with blank, colorless expressions. Like they were all waiting for something. Orders maybe? Lucifer could have killed them all for their defiance.

But he had a better idea. The dead souls whose power he collected. Not so useless in their place now. He curled his fingers into a fist and raised his arm high as though celebrating his victory. Each body glowed bright white from the chest down. Dean may have had Hell in the palm of his hand, but he could make his own army...by siring eight million people.

* * *

><p>He'd never make it in time but he had to try. The black holes that all the demons had risen out of were too tainted for him to utilize. Castiel had to use the dimensional door that Dean had went through. He strayed far from the city, taking flight at phenomenal speed. He didn't want to see what was going on below. How much chaos was going through the cities he passed. The moment the barrier had went down there had been mayhem for beings of all species. The humans were in disarray that Manhattan seemed to be going through a blackout. Planes were being shot down by mysterious forces and any one coming close to the barrier where Lucifer had placed his demons was destroyed. He caught pieces of conversations of worry and concern and shock. The sky that darkened seem to consume the entire planet in black.<p>

But the dimensional door wasn't far now in a barren field, away from all the chatter. There was no fixing what Lucifer had done. The humans were more than aware now that demons and angels walked the earth and if they weren't, they soon would be if Lucifer wasn't taken down. He trusted in Dean to count on his instincts.

He wasn't wrong. The barrier had went down. The Noctis reduced. The moment it had, he knew he had to get to Dean no matter what. He had to find him to get him out. Michael could take care of it from here, but as long as Dean remained in the realm that was easily accessible, he would be in danger from Lucifer. But where was Dean now? If the barrier had went down and the rock destroyed that could only mean Dean had recovered the crown. Was he safe from lingering Imperials in the realm? If there were any...and where was Gabriel? He had spoken to Michael on his behalf but now he could not for the life of him triangulate a position where Gabriel had gone.

Perhaps he went back in hiding. Who could blame him with all the destruction around them?

The door didn't open when he got there. Of course not. He didn't have the payment it required.

Luck was on his side. Moments after he landed, the door opened and from the depths, the light faded to reveal none other than Dean's demon child herself, Carmen, climbed through the dimensional door. Castiel caught her around the arms and helped her out. The door began to close behind her. He didn't have much time.

"Carmen. Where's Dean?"

"He's still inside," said the girl frantically. "He told me to get out of here. I-I don't know why. I think he's in danger."

When wasn't he? "Then he's right. You need to get out of here." He pressed two fingers to his temple very briefly and then pressed them to her own forehead. She blinked and staggered as though he had burnt her.

"What...What was that?"

"I've sent you the location of Sam. You need to find him. Keep him safe. Keep yourself safe. Dean's depending on you to do this," said Castiel, patting her on the shoulder.

"But-"

"Go! We'll take it from here," With no time to waste, Castiel rushed past her and jumped through the Dimensional Door before it completely closed.

It was the first time he had been to Hell and just the smell alone was enough to wear him down. Burning oil and charred flesh...Yet this realm was empty as far as he could sense. Every demon that had once occupied it had gone to the surface. Save one. It was the strongest power signature he had ever come across. Even when Castiel first met him, he could tell Dean was cloaking most of his power as King...Yet know he seemed to find no reason to do it. It was like he was welcoming the challenge.

The castle was easy enough to find. The tallest structure in what could have been a ruined city. How ironic that Manhattan was this now. That everything it had come down to was just pain and destruction.

And Death.

When he reached the final stair step to the castle, he felt it. The sudden buzzing in his ear intensified by ten and he was left with a hollow feeling in his chest, a sudden sadness he couldn't place. His hand went automatically to his heart and he felt a mere glimpse of what the General had felt. There was no way possible but he wouldn't have even caught this echo if it weren't true. He had just experienced Michael's final moments in a much lesser form, but it was enough to stagger him with the weight of it and the realization...

"_Castiel? Castiel, are you there?" _Balthazar's voice in his ear over the rush of field commands.

"Yes, Balthazar...I'm here," But where was here, truly, if not on the battlefield collecting the General's remains from the demons who had killed him?

_"The retreat order has been given. All legionaries are to report back to the Celestial Realm, effective immediately. The General has fallen. Do you understand me? Lucifer killed him."_

"I'm not leaving without Dean," said Castiel.

_"Castiel," _Balthazar all but snarled his name with venom. "_Get the hell out of dodge. Forget about the King. He's as good as dead too. Lucifer just resurrected every human he absolved. The demons have escaped. It's no longer safe in the mortal realm. We have to regroup as soon as possible. Return to Heaven immediately."_

"Negative, Commander. You'll have to go without me," Before Balthazar could give him an answer, Castiel severed the Link between them and used both hands to push open the castle doors. What he found wasn't exactly what he expected. After the long hall was the throne room. He would have been impressed by its marble structure if not for the gaping hole in the middle that was steadily growing as the ground continued to lessen and pieces of ground fell into this hole.

Castiel approached, found himself teetering on the edge where he saw below a flaming grate of iron that lead to a black pit with no end in sight.

It was a dimensional door. Why it was open. Why it was here, was a mystery.

"Ah...angel...That wasn't part of the plan. You're not supposed to be here,"

Dean's voice was so chiding. Castiel was so distracted by dimensional door, he didn't catch wind of Dean standing near the iron throne with his back to him. There was another hole in front of Dean where the Noctis Rock had run through. He had a crown on his head, a sword in his hand. The rule of power truly had returned to him, through some means.

But there was no time to ask how now.

"Dean, we have to leave. Michael is-"

"Dead," Dean finished quietly. "I know. I sense that."

"This door is growing larger by the minute, Dean. It'll consume this entire castle," said Castiel. "And Lucifer...He's coming. He'll be here for you next. You don't know...I felt him...I felt Michael's despair as he died."

At the word, despair, Dean seemed to move, crossing his arms and closing his eyes.

"Not if I know royalty. And I know _him, _He'd rather sire half of the city to show me that me taking his kingdom means nothing to him," Dean laughed without humor and looked back when Castiel didn't answer, spotting the expression on his face. "Or not even half, was it. He resurrected them all didn't he?"

"That's what I heard. The demons have escaped into the world. Who knows what they're doing? But I do know it's not safe here," said Castiel. He wanted to be closer. Not have this huge gaping hole between them. He could always reason with Dean by looking into his eyes. This distance was not comforting. And he felt like his words would hit deaf ears.

As if Dean could read his mind, the demon edged around the portal, pulled Castiel close in a tight embrace with a beguiling smile on his face.

"You came for me?"

"I'll always come for you," Castiel spoke seriously. He took a hold of Dean, squeezed his upper shoulder once for emphasis. "Now, come on. There's not a lot of time. I told Carmen where Sam was. We should get to them."

"You got her out safely?"

Castiel nodded. "I met her on the way. She's safe, Dean."

"Good," said Dean approvingly, stroking Castiel's cheekbone and tilting his head. "We'll never get it again, you know. A moment like this. Where it's just us...and no one else."

"We have all the time in the world," Castiel pointed out. "We're immortal."

"You're right," Dean agreed. "It's only time."

Dean drew close for a kiss. Even though every bone in his body protested to just drag the demon along with him, his breath caught in a gasp when Dean pressed his lips with surprising gentility against Castiel's. Castiel returned the kiss with hesitance, Dean's name coming to his lips to catch his attention.

But the word drowned out by a loud thud. Castiel's senses were blinded by that power. A hundred times stronger than Michael and unmasked. He could have cowered from it. But he stood firm and pulled away from Dean to face the door. It was now or never. He grabbed Dean's wrist wordlessly and began to tug.

"Hey," Dean resisted the hold just as another quake shook the ground, like a giant was taking a step. And just by the synchronization between them, it sounded like a doom toll. "I'm not running from him."

"Dean," Castiel groaned at the demon's obstinacy, but already could see this was not something he could dissuade. "Do you not sense his power? His power dwarfs yours and mine combined! Come with me. We can leave this place, if we hurry."

"We'll never make it in time," Dean told him, pulling his wrist from Castiel. "Never. And I have nothing to fear from him."

"You have everything to fear from him! He killed Michael, Dean! He'll kill you! You think he has any vestige of love for you in his heart after what you just did?!" Castiel grabbed both of Dean's shoulders, feeling the heat increase tenfold. Another step. Another tremor. He was closer than ever. "Leave. Leave everything behind. While you still can."

He had said these words before when he pleaded with Dean to leave the battle with Raphael at Rose Manor. It all seemed so long ago. Dean didn't listen then either.

"I refuse,"

Of course he did. He never chose the safest route. He never chose the logical route. He went headfirst into the danger zone with a smile on his face.

Since the moment he met him.

What choice did Castiel have?

"Then I'm going with you,"

Dean managed a faint smile. "You came for me, didn't you? Just like then...to the altar...Would you honestly have it any other way now? Spending your potential last moments with me?"

"Is that what we're doomed to, then? Never a life outside of this? Just pain and destruction and near death exploits?"

"Maybe. But, I don't know about you," said Dean with a smile, eyes averting to the door as he stepped towards it. " I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

><p>Another quake. They were coming much faster now. Dean and Castiel stopped at the top of the stairs leading up to the castle. With an almost lazy wave of his hand, Dean closed the doors behind them.<p>

He came. Just as he expected. Just as he wanted. Lucifer was always considered the most beautiful angel to ever exist, but seeing him now would put serious doubts on that. His white suit was tattered and covered in blood that looked fresh. It dribbled down his face into the cloth where a faint spray of what looked like coal and debris had formed.

But when found Dean and Castiel, he stopped short. The first look at Dean's crown upon his head, the sword in his hand...was enough to redden his face in barely contained rage. There was something bright clutched in his left hand and with a slight surprise, Dean realized this was Michael's sword, stolen right off his corpse.

"So this is how it all comes full circle," Lucifer pointed the sword directly in the direction of Dean's throat. "I should have known the moment I plucked you from the crib that you'd be a problem. Because that is all you have been since the moment you learned to walk and talk. A problem. A disease. A pathetic excuse for demon wrapped in _my _crown. Wielding _my_ sword."

"Aren't we past name calling?" Dean asked conversationally, placing his sword a few inches into the ground and leaning on it.

"Aren't you past being infuriating? Look at you, boy. You'd be nothing if not for me. In fact, you'd be dead. As dead as your poor parents who sold you to me,"

Dean opened his mouth to retort and closed it when Lucifer's words sunk in. "What."

Lucifer smiled wide and lowered Michael's sword. "Oh my...I would think all your time spent on the mortal realm would have you at least _investigate_ your true lineage. It's the _human_ thing to do, don't you think?"

Dean clenched his teeth together tightly. "My parents did _not_ sell me to you. You killed them."

"After they tried to run away. But unlike them, you see. I honor my contracts...I always see them through to the very end," said Lucifer. "But I can see that acquiring_ you_ was a mistake. You've become quite an annoyance."

Dean regained his composure and flashed a cold smile. "Does my having everything you want piss you off, Pops?"

"Everything I want?" Lucifer repeated incredulously. "You don't have everything I want, Dean. You think taking my throne makes a difference? What you did is barely an interruption. You won't be king long without an army. They've been killed a hundred times over by Michael's army. And I just sired an entire city of people pledged to obey their maker."

"I wonder why then why you took the trouble. Killed your brother. Sired an entire city of dead people unworthy yet of becoming our kind and then dragged your sorry ass down here with your brother's sword to kill me, " said Dean, pressing a finger to his lip in thought. "All that to prove a point that you're not weak?"

"I told you before, Dean. Love is weakness,"said Lucifer.

"Then what are you proving?"

"That even a King can bleed," Lucifer snarled.

"You're perfect evidence," Dean retorted. "Stand down, Lucifer. You have no power in this realm. You lost. We both lost enough, technically. Does fighting really solve anything?"

"Yes, we've both lost enough," Lucifer agreed, tilting his head. "The only difference between you and me, boy, is that _I'll_ live to regret it."

"You won't live through anything," said Castiel. "As long as one angel is alive to stand against you...As long as a true King is on the throne ready to fight; You will never win."

"Ah...Hahahaha...Castiel, was it?" Lucifer started a semi circle around them. "So the broken king and his weak grunt angel teaming up to fight me? I really must say, Dean. You picked the worst time. I already took down Michael. I took down Heaven's highest Archangel. I wiped out an entire city. I'm two for three when it comes to devastating realms."

"We don't have to fight you, pops. Just look behind me," said Dean, raising his chin in defiance.

He stepped aside and Lucifer got a clear shot of the dimensional door. Dean got the satisfaction of his eyes widening in what had to be fear. "Is that..."

"Your new prison,"

"So this was your plan all along. To lure me into this realm so you could throw me into a prison?" The words came out with a guttural noise hanging in his voice. Dean had seen Lucifer kill for pride, kill for satisfaction, kill because something irritated him. When he had a problem, he destroyed it. But now he could see the rage color his features. The true rage. The betrayal.

He didn't even stop him when Lucifer rushed him, pressed an impact shot of power to his chest and sent Dean spinning into the air.

The black and white swirled around him as Dean flew through the air, landing painfully against the throne, knocking it over and hitting the ground on his side where a jagged piece of the throne seat's iron embedded itself into his lower back and bled freely. But it was the shot to his chest that hurt the most. The crown rolled off his head and settled a few inches away from his curled hand.

Imbued with a fiery element, Dean's heart felt like it had been set ablaze and he was blinded by the searing pain coursing through every blood vessel.

Lucifer turned his attention to Castiel, too fast for human eyes, he punched the angel across the jaw, breaking it with enough force to let him crash through a nearby pillar into the right wall. He didn't give Castiel time to even slide back down to the ground before catching him by the scruff of his neck and planting a hard knee into his stomach, shattering his rib cage.

The pain was excruciating and Lucifer knew it. He raised Castiel and slammed him against the wall, cracking the angel's skull in several places.

Castiel fell forward like a ragdoll where Lucifer raised a boot over his exposed back and crushed his spine in a single, crunching stomp.

"You know how hard it is to cut through angelic fiber? Yet you break like butter, don't you?" Lucifer mused, wrapping his fingers around Castiel's armor strap on his shoulder and dragging him forward. "Get up, Dean. I want you to watch him die."

Dean groaned, rolling onto his back, pulling out the metal piece from his back and tossing it aside as he pulled himself to his feet and grabbed the discarded sword he had lost hold of mid-flight. A few inches from his hand was the crown...The crown that had caused so much strife. His eyes fell on it with disdain, but he picked it up and got to his feet.

"Let him go, Lucifer," Dean ordered in a strained voice. "Or-"

"Or you'll do what, my liege? Will you kill me? You see, Dean. Despite what you may say, I don't think you've mustered the will to want to kill me. Not truly. Not yet...But I do wonder. Will killing this grunt push you? You know it would take everything in your power to destroy me...and I don't think you hate anything quite enough, let alone me, to do so," Lucifer held the sword tip to Castiel's throat. "If I run this blade through Castiel's neck..."

"I'll kill you,"

Lucifer's eyes gleamed. "That dimensional door between us grows more by the minute, your majesty. Are you sure you want to risk the jump to save your beloved? Are you sure it won't suck you right in? A dimensional door will always get its payment. That wound looks painful, I daresay you won't make it. I'll tell you what, I'll release this pathetic excuse for an angel and let him walk from my realm unscathed... If you take the dive into the portal."

"Don't...listen to him, Dean...It's not...It's not worth your own life," Castiel was barely breathing, a line of blood dribbling down from his lip. Only one eye was able to remain open and he focused it on Dean. "It's...not worth it...Don't let him...control you."

_"Always remember this, Dean. You always have a choice. Don't let him control you."_

Gabriel's words. He remembered them. A mere sliver of a memory he never believed he had through denial. A human memory.

What was all this anyway? He was the King. It didn't matter that every fiber in his being never wanted it. It didn't matter that he had never wanted to rule this realm.

All that mattered was the choice now. And was there really a question to what that choice was?

Gripping his sword to the point of breaking skin, Dean took the jump. Everything seemed to slow down in that moment. Flames licked Dean's feet and he felt a gravitational pull from the portal but he ignored it all even as his body was momentarily obscured by light. Lucifer's eyes widened in shock and amazement. He released Castiel when he saw Dean emerge from the portal, holding up his sword to defend Dean's strike.

But his defense broke, and the sword. Michael's sword of justice worthy only in Michael's own hands shattered like dust as Dean cut through it, tiny shards of gold flying everywhere. The force downward pushed Lucifer to his knees. Shock registered and made him numb.

He stared dumbfounded up at Dean who now had the tip of his sword barely an inch away from Lucifer's throat. Castiel fell on his front, his arms extending to catch his fall. His head slowly turned to watch them both.

"Let's...Let's talk about this," He managed breathlessly, holding up both hands in surrender and dropping the useless hilt. "Dean, you know I would have never really hurt you. I wouldn't have even hurt the angel. I would never hurt my boy."

"This. This is what you want, isn't it?," Dean raised the crown in his hand. His grip was so tight that it was cutting into his palm like a jagged knife. "This is what you fight me for, isn't it? This fucking...crown."

He held it over the portal. "You want this fucking crown so bad?"

"Wait!" Lucifer cried. "Dean...Dean...I know what all this looks like...This...mess... I wanted...everything for you...It's why I did it...For you...Always...for you."

"I know you did," Dean agreed grimly. "But you loved your ambition. And this fucking title more...This is the price of being your son. I realize that. I have to do this."

"Dean...," Lucifer began.

"Well, you can die with it," Dean continued coldly. "You wanted forever with me, Father...Then you'll get it."

Realizing too late what he was planning, Castiel cried out. "NO, DEAN, DON'T! We can get out of this! We can go home!"

Dean managed a faint smile without looking at him. "Home is where you are, angel."

A brightness began to rise out of his back like white vapor. His soul. It glowed, white and made of light itself. Castiel could have touched it, but the light came from the dimensional door and engulfed the entire realm. Dean grabbed Lucifer by handful of his shirt and cast him down. Lucifer was falling...falling...and taking the soul with him...No...it couldn't be.

The price of opening the portal. The soul of the caster.

Castiel shielded his sight from it all, reached forward and buried himself into Dean's jacket. A high pitched sound filled the room...and then the body he clung to became heavy.

He opened his eyes.

Dean slumped in his arms, a soulless body. Castiel gripped it tight underneath his arms and let himself fall under the weight. The entrance hall was clear and in tact as if nothing had ever disturbed it...as if no evidence anything devastating happened.

Nothing but this body he clutched to his chest like a lifeline.

Dean's face was so peaceful in death. He could have been sleeping. A small smile...like he was finally at peace.

He hugged Dean closer to himself, burying his face in Dean's hair. "You...were born a prince. You lived a king...but you died a hero. I'll never forget that, Dean. I'll never forget."

_-Fin_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So I know there are a lot of unanswered questions. This story is far from over. I am actually going to be writing a sequel. I kind of always envisioned a trilogy series. But we'll see. So with that said, I hope everyone enjoyed the ending as much as I enjoyed writing the story as a whole.**

**Thanks everyone for their support. Jew are ze best.**

**-J**


	31. Author's Endnote

**Hiya everyone.**

**Raison D'etre has a sequel I am working on. And in case anyone following this story wanted to know, the link is on my page (I am afraid of putting links on here and have yet to figure out the correct way to copying them here for fear I'll butcher it)**

**But yes as my author's note on the last chapter said. This story is far from over. It's sequel: Coup D'etat, is now in the works.**

**Thank you all for reading. You are awesome.**


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